


Holiday

by Sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr



Series: The Detective, His Doctor, His Brother and His DCI [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A growing list of toys and kinks, Anal Plug, BDSM, Blindfolds, Bondage, Cock Cages, Dom!John, Dominance, Enemas, Gags, Handcuffs, Kneeling, M/M, Riding Crops, Sub!Mycroft, Submission, Switch!Greg, Switch!Mycroft, dom!Greg, sub!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2018-11-04 12:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10990851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: The boys decide to take a holiday to help Mycroft get better control of himself.





	1. Getting There

Sherlock stared at the ceiling of the car. "Bored!" He yelled for the fifteenth time.

"Sherlock, we heard you the first time," Mycroft complained.

Without batting an eyelash, John shoved his boyfriend down onto the floor. "You're not a child. You can manage a few hours in a car."

"But, John-" the detective started to whinge only to be cut off when the doctor pulled his head into his lap, smashing his face into his crotch. Sherlock let out a pleased sound and started mouthing at John's zip.

"No!" John hissed down at him. "I pushed you down there for complaining like a child. You don't get to enjoy it."

"Boring!" Sherlock declared.

Mycroft chuckled softly. His heart already felt lighter just getting out of London. He moved closer to Greg and rested his hand on his knee. "Thank you for this, Gregory."

Greg glanced in the rear view at the other pair and grinned. "You were right, babe. We needed time away from home."

"But you've just been promoted-" Mycroft started.

Greg shook his head. "The new Chief Super will handle things. It'll be fine."

John smacked the back of Sherlock's head as the detective made another move towards his zip. "Greg, you may have to find a place to pull over. If this one doesn't behave, I may need some gear from the boot."

Greg glanced over his shoulder. "There's services about a mile and a half away."

"They'll do." John glanced back down at Sherlock who was frowning. "Put your hands behind your head."

The detective did so, but not without shooting John a dirty look. "I'm bored, John. That's no reason-"

"It's every reason, pet. You know as well as I do that you get yourself into trouble when you're bored. I'm not letting that happen."

When the car pulled over Greg climbed out, ordering Mycroft to remain where he was.

"But I need to pee!"

The Superintendent laughed. "Alright. Go to the loo. And bring back coffees."

Mycroft grinned and took off towards the building.

The second the car had stopped John had leant forward and pushed Sherlock down into the backseat.

"What do you need, mate?" Greg called through.

"Handcuffs and a gag. I think that should do it. Unless you see something you think I might need."

Sherlock sputtered, "I don't want a gag."

John laughed. "And I don't want to hear 'bored' again." John pushed Sherlock's face down into the seat and grabbed his flailing arms. He slipped the cuffs around his wrists and pulled him upright.

"I won't say it again, sir, I promise. You don't need to gag me."

"Fine. I don't need to gag you," John agreed. He forced the gag between Sherlock's lips. "But I want to." He buckled the gag in place. "I can't wait until we get where we're going. I have plans for you, pet."

Sherlock couldn't help but snarl around his gag.

"Oh stop it," John pushed him back down to his knees, face down into the chair. He tied the leash attached to Sherlock's collar to the buckle on the seat.

He glanced at Greg. "I think that'll do it." John climbed from the vehicle and stretched his legs.

Mycroft came back with coffees for everyone.

"Sherlock won't be needing his," John said, taking one for himself.

Mycroft stretched his neck and looked in the car door. When he saw his brother's predicament, he had to turn away to keep from laughing. He knew that would be highly inappropriate. "Causing trouble, is he, sir?"

"I would say it was trouble prevention," Greg said with a chuckle.

The doctor sipped his coffee and sighed. "I'd better keep one for him. He hasn't had a drink since we left this morning."

They climbed back in the car. John set Sherlock's coffee down in the cup holder. He rested his own on his knee. "As soon as it's had a chance to cool, you can have some."

Sherlock turned his face away to look at the door and not his Dom.

John rolled his eyes. "He's in a petty mood now. He'll sulk for hours."

"Mmph!" the detective objected.

John took another sip of his coffee and laughed. "See?"

"To be fair, that's all he can do," Mycroft pointed out.

The doctor reached between the seats and grabbed Mycroft's ear, then pulled his head back through and pointed at his sub's feet that were stamping. "He can do that too."

"Yes, I see, sir." Mycroft grabbed the back of the seat to steady himself. "Sir, would you mind letting go now?"

"Only because the car is moving." John released him, giving him a little shove into the front seat.

"Calm it," John warned his sub with a hand on Sherlock's head. "You definitely do not want to ruin this already. Not with how well you've been behaving the last few days and with Mycroft just before."

Sherlock dropped his head to the back seat, his head now turned towards John. He was glaring, but it lacked his normal venom.

John brushed his cheek briefly. "Being a good boy now, Sherlock?"

The detective's nod was only slight, but it was a nod all the same.

"Good." The doctor slid across the seat so he could lift Sherlock's head onto his lap. "Greg, we never said thank you for inviting us along on holiday, so thanks."

Greg smiled into the mirror. "We're glad to have you. Besides, I don't think it would be a good idea to split the boys up right now."

"I can hear you, Gregory," Mycroft chided.

"What was that, pet?"

"Sorry. I can hear you, sir." Only Mycroft's smile saved him from further admonitions.

"You might be the British Government on hold, right now, but I can still arrest you."

Mycroft chuckled. "Arrest me, sir? For what?"

Greg made a point of thinking about it. "Breach of the peace."

"What peace?"

"Mine."

"Yes, sir." Mycroft leaned over and rested his head on Greg's shoulder.

"Oi! Pet, I'm driving." He tried to shrug the government official off without success. "If we get into an accident, it's your fault."

"Yes, sir."

He put his hand on the gear stick, over Greg's.

"Why do you hold it, sir? We're doing 80, you don't need that."

"I do it too," John called through. "Habit, I guess."

Mycroft lifted Greg's hand and held it. He played with his fingers and knuckles, massaging them. "Are you going to tell me where we're going yet?"

"Nope."

"Has it got anything to do with the £800000.00 withdrawals over the last week?"

Greg laughed. "You've been spying?"

"No, sir. Anthea phoned and wanted to check that the transactions were verified. I lied, of course because I knew you were up to something."

Sherlock aimed pleading eyes in his direction and John decided to let him up. He removed the gag.

"That sort of money wouldn't touch the sides in your account, why was Anthea so bothered?" Sherlock asked with his new found freedom of speech.

"Because she hadn't seen me in days and was likely worried."

"Does that mean you'll need to check in with her while we're gone?" John asked.

Mycroft nodded. "Yes, but just every three days or so. It's the least I can do to give her peace of mind. She worries about me."

"Awww, if my big brother wasn't gay I would say he was in love!"

John reached over and clipped the detective on the back of the head. "Be quiet, trouble, or I'll tie you down again."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

"Trouble. Ha! I like that." Greg grinned at John in the mirror. "You should get him a collar with that on it."

"Engraved in gold. Maybe I will." John picked up Sherlock's coffee. "Would you like a drink now, trouble?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "No."

"I think you'll find you meant no, sir. But I further think you'll find you meant yes, sir."

John had left him cuffed so held the cup up to his lips.

Sherlock drank it, though it wasn't up to his standards. He was surprised Mycroft had drank it without complaint. "Yuck," he said at the first opportunity. "It's bitter."

"Its coffee, you nob."

Sherlock glared at him. "Meanie."

"I've got water, if you'd prefer?"

"No, sir! No! That's fine."

John held the cup to his boy's lips again and the detective drank. He needed the caffeine jolt, especially since his Dom had forbidden him using nicotine patches.

"Watch it, mate," Greg called back. "If you give him too much of that stuff he'll be bouncing off the roof."

"Actually, yeah, good point."

Sherlock chased the cup as it was withdrawn from his lips. "John! No fair." He stamped his feet in a frenzy. "I'm thirsty."

"I still have that water." John pulled a bottle of water out of a bag at his feet.

Sherlock scowled. "Why don't I get to drink all of it and you do?"

"Because you're bored enough as it is, the last thing I need right now is a hyper bored consulting detective."

"I don't get... hyper," Sherlock said with a pout.

That statement was so outrageous that the other three men burst out laughing immediately. John laughed so hard it brought tears to his eyes. He lifted his hand up to the back of the detective's head and ruffled his curls roughly.

"Get off," Sherlock complained.

He had gone into full strop.

"Oh, don't be that way," the doctor said gently. "We may have been laughing at you, but we didn't mean anything by it. You know that. I love you, you git."

"Don't care," he replied, looking out the window.

"Is he sulking again? Already?" Mycroft asked.

When no bitter retort was forthcoming, John inclined his head. "Seems so."

The government official turned around in his seat and looked at his brother. "I thought we were going on holiday because I was having trouble behaving. Now you're starting up?" Mycroft watched him carefully for his response.

"I'm not starting up anything," Sherlock snapped. "I just don't like being treated as a baby."

"Brother mine, if John treated a baby the way he treats you-"

"I'd have to put him under the jail," Greg finished.

"Yeah, babe, the things I plan for you are definitely not child friendly," John patted his boy's knee affectionately.

Sherlock jerked his knee away. "Don't care."

"God, now he's being petty." John reached for the gag again. "Well I know what I can do about that."

"John, mmph-" the detective's words were cut off as the doctor shoved the gag in his mouth once again. He couldn't help but smile to himself, Sherlock hadn't even fought it.

Greg pulled the car up before their destination and climbed out of the car.

When he came back from the boot he was holding two padded blindfolds. He threw one to the backseat that John caught and he tied the other around Mycroft's head.

Sherlock ducked and glared at the blindfold, causing John to chuckle.

"Boy, you should have anticipated this. You know we intend our destination to be a surprise." John tied the blindfold around his boy's head. "There, that's better."

"Done?" Greg asked.

"Yup. Can you get a move on. I need to pee."

"We're still 20 minutes away."


	2. Vesuvius

When Greg came across the next roundabout, he went around it a total of 7 times, causing John to laugh. "Oh, come on, they'd be able to work out what exit we took and know where we're going. Prudence and all that."

Mycroft shoved his hands under his bum to keep himself from removing the blindfold. The Superintendent noticed. "Problem, pet?"

The government official shrugged. "The last time I was blindfolded in a car, I was being abducted."

Greg frowned. "Then take it off if it bothers you. I don't want bad associations."

"No, sir, I trust you."

John glanced down at Sherlock. It was clear he was thinking the same thing. John reached up and removed his gag once again.

"Do you want to safeword?"

"No, sir," he shook his head.

John pulled him over to rest his head in his lap. After a few minutes, Sherlock turned his head towards John's stomach. He started mouthing at his Dom's zip. Again. John pulled him back by the curls. "Boy, we're almost at our destination. Don't push it."

"But I want to."

"I don't care. This isn't about what you want. You should have learnt that a long time ago."

The detective made a point of pouting.

John shook his head incredulously. His boy was impossible. He kissed his fingertips and pressed them to Sherlock's cheek. The detective looked up at him and managed to smile without pulling his bottom lip back in. "You're a force of nature, did you know that?"

Sherlock's grin got wider. It was weird seeing Sherlock react without seeing his eyes doing the same. "I'm a volcano!" the detective said happily. "Like the one at Pompeii. Whoosh, and no one can resist me." He kicked his feet up in the air and rested them against the ceiling of the car.

"You're a disaster waiting to happen, alright," John agreed.

Sherlock sighed. "Mount Vesuvius isn't active anymore."

"Actually, little brother, it is active. It's the only active volcano in Europe. On land at least."

"Is that what you talk about in your end of the world meetings?" the detective asked.

"That… and alien invasions," Mycroft agreed.

Greg and John both laughed. Mycroft just gave them a flat look from behind his blindfold.

"Alright you two. Get out," Greg ordered when he pulled the car up at their destination.

John grabbed Sherlock by the scruff of the neck and Greg grabbed Mycroft.

The two Doms dragged the pair of Holmeses into the house.

John pushed his boy down to his knees straight away and Greg did the same with his boy. They exchanged glances, then removed the blindfolds simultaneously.

The kneeling men blinked at the light, looking around.

"It's a room," Sherlock pointed out for no reason.

The doctor took his sub to the nearest door. "You'll find this room is the only 'normal' one." He pushed the door open and shoved Sherlock's head through.

The detective gawped at the room. It was decorated completely in a jungle theme. The bed was draped with mosquito netting and there were african masks hanging on the walls. In the corners, spears and blow guns were leaning against the wall artfully.

Sherlock was thrown to the floor inside the room. He was shortly followed by Mycroft.

"This is one of many. We designed them," John laughed. "Greg dealt with everything else."

The detective looked up at the ceiling and the 'vines' that hung there. He quickly deduced that they were functional, not merely for decoration. "Suspension gear," Sherlock said to his brother who hadn't looked up yet.

"Maybe a holiday was a bad idea," Mycroft suggested, still looking around.

The Superintendent shortly had Mycroft on his feet and thrown into the nearest wall. "Give me your hands," he ordered sharply.

The switch didn't argue, determined to conduct himself better whilst they were on holiday. He put his hands behind his back and waited for what would come next. He wasn't surprised when his wrists were cuffed there.

"We can swap if you like?" Greg asked.

"No, sir. That kind of defeats the point of the holiday in the first place.

"Good." Greg licked a line up Mycroft's neck. "I was hoping you'd say that."

The government official groaned. Greg had done it to him again, aroused him with just a few simple actions. If only he hadn't still been wearing the cock cage, Mycroft would have been hard already.

A few weeks ago Greg and John had said a month. A whole month on orgasm denial. However, at the time there had been no holiday planned. No escape from work. No reason.

Greg breathed into Mycroft's ear, "I know what you're hoping. You're hoping John and I will relent and take those cages off. Tell me, pet, what do you think the odds of that are?"

The Superintendent and the doctor fully intended to free the boys, but they didn't want to make it too easy for them. They'd have to earn it.

Mycroft sighed. "Not very likely, sir."

"Quite right. Because the pair of you deserve this. You've been in sub mode for months, but the last 3 weeks you've been in bratty sub mode. Bratty subs mean punishment."

Greg winked at John, delighted with their secret plans.

Sherlock tried to jerk free from the doctor's grip. "I've been good! I even helped Mycroft. I haven't been... bratty."

"Need I remind you of your behaviour in the car, Mr. Volcano?" John asked.

Sherlock groaned and lowered his head. He always put his bloody foot in it.

Happy both of their boys were cuffed, they dragged them through to the next room, this one was beach themed and on the other side of the room the glass doors opened out on to the real beach.

"If you boys behave, we can go for a walk on the beach later," John promised. He knew Sherlock loved walking along the shore, he could only guess that Mycroft did as well.

"We always behave," Mycroft retorted.

He got a slap on the back of the head. "Watch your tone, Mycroft. Just because we aren't in London doesn't mean anything else has to change. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." The switch dropped his head in a show of submission. Be good, Mycroft, he told himself. Be golden. Make Gregory proud.

Sherlock smirked at his brother and John grabbed his chin. "The same applies to you, you know."

"Yes, sir. I'm well aware of that."

"Watch it," the doctor warned. "That was almost insubordinate."

"Sorry, sir. Truly."

"Mm hm." John grabbed his pet's curls and dragged him from the room.

Sherlock kept his mouth shut as John dragged him around. He didn't want to screw up, and knew if he did try and speak it would come out as impertinence.

Back in the ordinary main room, Greg regarded the boys. "One drawback to having them cuffed is they can't unload the car." He sighed. "If you'll keep an eye on them, I'll do it."

John set his own boy beside Greg's and nodded. "Sure."

While Greg was gone, John bent over and forced Sherlock's trousers down to his knees. Then toed his caged cock, making it bounce heavily.

Sherlock looked down at it with a forlorn look on his face and sighed the sigh of the long suffering.

"I know you're not feeling sorry for yourself, pet. You earned this little cage, after all."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it."

John kicked it a little harder. "If you did like it then it wouldn't be punishment, would it?" John folded his arms and moved over beside Mycroft.

"How about you, boy. Anything to say?" The Dom pulled Mycroft's trousers down as well.

"No, sir."

"Excellent." John turned as Greg came back in the house, his arms fully loaded. "God, Greg, let me help with that." He rushed and took two bags from the Superintendent's hands.

The Holmeses both looked down at their restrained members. The way the other two men just wandered about without much thought for their lack of… arousal, made them pout and frown.

"Did you decide on two separate rooms or one massive one?" John asked.

"One massive one, but there is a second room in case one of us wants some alone time with our boyfriend. It's nothing fancy as I don't expect it'll get used much."

John nodded. "I would have done the same."

The Superintendent led John through to where their main room was to dump their bags. They took a while so when they came out were surprised to see Sherlock trying to get some friction to his cock through the cage bars.

"Oh, seriously?" John bust out laughing. "If you did manage to rub off on something, all you would do is wind yourself up. You know you're not coming as long as the cage is on." John crossed his arms. "Maybe I should let you carry on and see how frustrated you can make yourself."

Sherlock froze where he was and then glared up at the Dom.

"Don't look at me like that, Sherlock, none of this is my fault. I believe you were the one causing trouble. As was your brother. Except, he's stayed knelt where Greg left him."

The Superintendent crossed over to Mycroft and dropped a kiss to the top of his head. "Good job, pet."

It was a little thing, that small bit of praise, but it made Mycroft squirm, feeling ridiculously proud. "Thank, you, sir."

Sherlock turned his glare on Mycroft.

"No, you rutting around like a teenager isn't his fault either."

"It bloody is! If it wasn't for him I wouldn't be stuck in this stupid cage in the first place."

John grabbed his boy by the curls. He looked over at the Superintendent. "For fuck's sake. Greg, would you fetch me a gag? I should have known better than to remove it in the first place."

"Mycroft, stay," he ordered, as if Mycroft might get up and wander off.

Greg returned shortly from their bedroom where their stuff had been dumped and returned with a different gag than before. This one was dildo shaped and rather largish. John accepted it gratefully. "Ta." He moved to put it in Sherlock's mouth, but the detective twisted away. "Boy, do you really want a cropping this early in the game?" Sherlock didn't duck away the second time, but he didn't open his mouth. "My boy is most definitely in brat mode. It's clearly his favourite mood today. But I don't fancy using the crop. Greg, any suggestions?"

Greg grinned. "I brought the rice."

Sherlock's mouth popped open immediately. The last thing he wanted to do was end up sorting rice again or counting or anything else the two Doms came up with.

"I want an apology first," John said, stepping back and still holding the gag. "I want you to apologise to me for your attitude and your childish behaviour and then you are going to beg me to gag you."

"I won't beg," the sub said petulantly.

"Of course you will. You'll either apologise now and beg for the gag, or you'll do it later. I promise you."


	3. Welcome to the Jungle

Mycroft made the mistake of searching out his brother's eye. As soon as he had it, he couldn't help himself, he burst out laughing.

Sherlock's head whipped around, despited John's grip in his hair. He glared daggers at his brother. "Need I remind you, brother dear, of your recent behaviour," he spat. "You've been acting like a spoiled child."

"Oi!" John dragged his sub away from the government official. "Shut it."

"And you," Greg snapped, "stop your laughing."

Mycroft ducked his head and Greg yanked it back up again. He kissed him roughly, taking his lip between his teeth.

"Sherlock, this is your last warning!" John growled.

"Why do I get a warning, but my brother gets snogged? It's not fair!" The detective kicked his feet against the floor.

"That's it." John dragged his sub towards the jungle room.

Greg pushed Mycroft back so he landed on his arse with a grunt. It was in time to see Sherlock.

"No, no, sir, I'm sorry for my attitude and stuff, sir," the detective begged.

"Too late."

"Sir, please. Gag me. I want you to."

John smiled grimly, but kept dragging his sub towards the jungle room. He kicked open the door and dragged Sherlock inside.

"Sir! I said I'm sorry."

"And I fucking gave you a chance. You felt like pushing your luck, well you'll know about it now." John used his foot to hook a bench that was against the wall and pull it into the centre of the room. He threw Sherlock over it face first. "Don't even think about moving." He went over to the suitcase that held their toys and started rummaging through it. He came back with rope and began wrapping it around Sherlock's body, tying his already cuffed arms to his back, then he began tying him to the bench starting at his neck and heading down his back.

Sherlock turned his head and rested his cheek on the bench. "John, sir. Really, I'm sorry."

"Mm hm." The doctor kept working quietly, finally tying off the rope, then he got a new length and began tying oneif his boy's legs to the bench. When he started on the second, he spread his boy's arse wide. He reached between his legs and pulled his caged cock down to hang over the edge, tgen he ran a length of rope through the tip and attached it to a hook on the bench. "There. Much better." John circled around in front of his boy, the gag back in hand. He waved it in front of Sherlock's face. "Open up."

The detective shook his head.

John gripped his curls in his fist, sighing in frustration as he did so. "Boy!" John pressed his thumb into the hinge point of his boy's jaw, forcing his mouth open. He quickly shoved the gag between his teeth and buckled it in place.

Sherlock glared up at him, with a clear huff through his nose.

Just as John tied his collar down to the bench, Greg joined them, Mycroft crawling along behind.

The Superintendent gave a low whistle. "He's certainly not going anywhere."

"Nope." John was rummaging through their toys again. He came up with a tube of lube. "I think I'll entertain myself for a while by playing with him."

Greg had clearly had words with the government official because when the Dom stopped, Mycroft straightened up behind him, head down, hands at his neck.

"You uncuffed him then, John observed. 

"I needed to." Greg turned to Mycroft. "Strip."

John looked at his own trussed up sub and laughed ruefully. "Yeah, I know I should have stripped him first, but I was so annoyed. At least his trousers and pants are down. I can get to the good bits."

Once Mycroft was clothes free, Greg pointed to the corner, "Go and kneel over there."

Mycroft glanced over to where the Dom was pointing. He didn't like the look of the little mud box that he would be kneeling in. He poked at the dirt with his toes. It didn't feel squishy, just a bit soft and well turned. He stepped onto it gingerly and lowered himself to a kneeling position.

"That's a good idea of yours," John said with a laugh.

"Closest thing to a jungle floor we could get. You should have seen the guy's face when I asked for it to be put in."

"What? His reaction worse than telling him about the rest of the place?"

Greg shook his head. "Fair point. There were more than a few raised eyebrows."

John had lubed up his fingers and was playing with Sherlock's hole, running his finger around the puckered rim.

"But I threatened them to within an inch of their lives if they mentioned any of this to anybody that wasn't working on it."

"You used Mycroft?"

"I didn't need to. I'm the Superintendent of New Scotland Yard, I don't need to use Mycroft's name all the time now. Which he'll be glad of."

"Oh, you're throwing your own weight around now, are you?" John smirked as he pushed a finger into his boys hole and wriggled it around. Seeing as his boy was bound up nicely and wouldn't be able to come no matter what, he teased his finger over Sherlock's prostate.

Sherlock tried to move with the ministrations, but he was bound tightly. John chuckled at the stupidity of trying to fight it in the first place.

Greg shrugged. "I can see why Mycroft gets a kick out of it, to be honest."

John looked over at Greg, surprised. "Really? I never figured you to be one for power plays, well, outside our relationships."

"Oh, it's not about the power. It's being able to do things for the people you care about and not having to worry about the repercussions."

John grinned, he knew exactly what the Superintendent meant and he agreed wholeheartedly.

"Would murder count?" Mycroft called over his shoulder.

"Jesus!" Greg rounded on his boy. "How about we don't test that, yeah?" Mycroft would go straight to the worst case scenario. "And I don't recall telling you you could speak." He placed both his hands on his pet's shoulders. "Watch yourself."

Mycroft ducked his head and stared at the mud he was knelt in. "Yes, sir."

"I don't doubt Sherlock would have had the same view point if he could speak."

"Mm mm," the detective agreed.

John laughed softly and added a second finger to his boy's hole, causing him to groan. "You love this even though nothing can come of it, don't you?"

Sherlock refused to even attempt to respond to that.

"Well my boy clearly wants something harder in his hole than my fingers. But he certainly doesn't deserve my cock." John removed his fingers altogether. "I don't imagine you have anything I could use that fits with the jungle theme?" he asked the Superintendent.

Greg shook his head. "Every idea I came up with was too creepy - miniature totem poles, snakes and the like. I settled on a camouflage coloured dildo." He picked it up and tossed it to John.

The doctor grinned at it and waved it in front of Sherlock's face. "What do you think, boy? Is this you? Do you enjoy the camouflage? You know, one day it could save your life."

The detective simply rolled his eyes at the absurdity.

John slicked up the dildo and put it at his boy's entrance. He played with it for a while, pushing it in just an inch, then pulling it back out. He did that several times, before thrusting it in with a single, smooth glide.

Sherlock bucked again, or at least tried to when the dildo brushed his prostate.

John just laughed. "Don't worry, boy, it isn't going anywhere." He tapped at the base with his fingers, drumming out a pattern.

Greg had snuck up on Mycroft with a Wartenburgh Wheel in hand. Without warning, he ran it along the length of his boy's spine, the little spikes pricking lightly at the government official's flesh. Mycroft gave a shudder, his cock attempting to fill out in its cage.

He leant over Mycroft and ran it down his chest, over one nipple. Then he ran it back up, over the same one to annoy Mycroft's need for perfection when it came to symmetry. He criss crossed the same nipple several times until it became so sensitive that all the Superintendent had to do was brush his fingers over it lightly to make Mycroft's breath hitch. At the same time, he completely ignored the other one. When it became clear Greg was leaving it at that, Mycroft moaned. Greg laughed, he knew exactly the response he would get for that and he wasn't disappointed.

"Gregory, sir," the government official whinged, "please." He wriggled and writhed trying to get the other man to pay attention to his other nipple.

"Nope," he popped the p and ruffled Mycroft's hair. "How's the mud? It's a good job I didn't let you kneel there in your pristine suit, isn't it?"

"At least it wouldn't have been me getting dirty."

"Typical." Greg pinched his boy's over sensitive nipple and laughed when Mycroft yelped. "I should use this on your cock later." He set the wheel aside and bent to suck a bruise on his boy's shoulder.

John's back had begun playing up by leaning over to tap on the plug. So instead he'd grabbed a crop and began patting the plug with that instead of his finger.

Sherlock's toes wriggled with every tap as did his fingers. Along with his arse clenching, that was about the only visible reaction he gave. Inside, however, he felt like his insides were melting from electrical overload.

John glanced down, where his cock was caged, it was clear he should have been hard as precome dribbled from the tip. "Look at you, boy, making a mess all over the floor. Naughty boy." His next swoosh of the crop was a little harder.

Sherlock let out a muffled yelp around the gag. He bit down on it in preparation for the next strike. Oh how he wanted the cage off! He wanted to come. He wanted to come with John inside him. The way John was enjoying himself, though, that didn't seem very likely. He felt like he wanted to cry, to sob and make John get on with it, but he knew from experience that it wasn't likely.

Greg started pulling on the 'vines' that were hanging from the ceiling. He had a mind to try a bit of suspension with his boy. He got everything just where he wanted it, then called Mycroft over. The government official was looking rather sorry for himself when he turned around, and then he saw the ropes. "Problem?"

"No, sir."

"Come here, then."

Mycroft crawled over and stopped in front of the Superintendent. Greg had produced a damp flannel from somewhere. "Stand up, pet. Let me clean you off." He wiped down his boy's knees, legs and feet so that he was clean. "Back on your knees, now."

Mycroft dropped down again, watching his brother the whole time. Sherlock looked rather uncomfortable, the simple fact his eyes were screwed shut and his cock was dribbling probably explained that. He wondered how long it would be until he was in the same condition.


	4. Bored

Greg set to work making the base harness that would serve to anchor his suspension creation. He worked methodically, using everything he had learned about the technique. Soon he had the 'vines' incorporated into his sculpture and was ready to lift Mycroft into the air. He checked his work one more time to be sure it was safe, then he moved to the crank and started turning it. Soon his boy was floating comfortably in the middle of the room.

Mycroft still couldn't take his eyes off his brother, even as Greg made John check his work.

The doctor was rather proud of the other Dom. Suspension bondage was difficult to master. "Excellent work, Greg," John slapped him on the back. "You've been studying hard."

"I've been sneaking down to the play room at night, practicing my techniques. I couldn't wait to try them out on Mycroft." The Superintendent beamed and leaned forward to kiss his boy on the lips.

Still, Mycroft's eyes were on his brother. All he could see was the frustration on Sherlock's face. The obvious arousal being the key to it. "Sir, please, let me out of the cage."

Greg smoothed down his boy's hair, then he pushed him gently so he started spinning. "I don't think so, pet." As he watched Mycroft twist in the air, he debated how long he wanted to tease him before he did remove the cage. A glance at John made him realise the doctor was thinking the same thing.

"No," John said when his boy glanced up at him. "This is to remind you of your place." Sherlock lost it. He struggled against his bonds furiously, but it was to no avail. John let him, waiting for him to wear himself out. When the sub had done just that, John asked, "Are you quite done?"

Sherlock glared at him, but it was all he could do. The amount of rope John had used to tie him to the bench… he hadn't stood a chance.

The doctor knelt behind his sub and removed his shoes and socks. At least he could do that much. Sherlock wriggled his toes, inspring John to tickle them. He couldn't move under John's ministrations even if he had had the energy to try.

The doctor chuckled as he used the small wartenburgh wheel to run it over Sherlock's feet.

"Mm m mmph," the detective mumbled around his gag as his toes continued to wriggle.

John was having a great time of it. It surprised him how much he was enjoying tickling his pet's feet with the gentle pressure he was using.

Greg raised a hand and grasped a rope holding Mycroft in the air. "Do you want me to do that?" The Dom asked. "One foot like one nipple."

"Sir, please no, it would drive me mad." As soon as Mycroft had said it, he knew he had made a mistake, Greg's grin had doubled in size.

"Perfect," the Superintendent clapped his hands and wandered over to the bed. He rummaged around in the bag with their toys and came up with a second wheel. "We should really use these more often."

"No!" Mycroft yelled.

Greg reached between the ropes and smacked Mycroft's arse. "Enough of that tone, mister."

"But it's not fair!"

"It may not be fair, but it certainly is fun." Greg caught Mycroft's ankle and started running the wheel over it. The government official tried to wiggle away, but only succeeded in making himself bounce in place.

John tossed aside the wheel and sat back on his heels. Sherlock's clothing was really starting to be a problem. He hated to untie his pet, but there was nothing for it. With a sigh, he set to work. "Greg. Leave yours for a moment, yeah?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't know if he will fight and I need to get him fully untied so I can undress him."

"Ha! Yeah, you do. He's in one of his moods." Greg came over and started helping.

John snorted. "You're right." Just as he said it, Sherlock tried to kick out with his newly freed foot, but the Superintendent caught it.

He twisted it to a point where it would hurt if Sherlock fought. Instead, the detective just glared at him.

"Do you not find it cute when they do that? Glare at you like they think it will make a difference… apart from making things worse."

"You'd think they'd learn."

Soon, John had the detective untied and Greg heaved him to his feet. While the Superintendent held him in place, John started unbuttoning his shirt. When John got to the button of Sherlock's trousers, the detective began wiggling, he tried throwing the Superintendent over his shoulder, but he clearly miscalculated Greg's awareness of this situation.

"I don't think so, somehow, do you?" The Superintendent twisted Sherlock's arms until the detective stopped fighting. "I've had practice at this, boy, with blokes that didn't care if they seriously injured me." He leant over the detective to whisper in his ear. "You do."

"I think he forgets that you are a copper. Even with your promotion."

John yanked off Sherlock's trousers and pants. Now his boy was properly exposed, but he was still sporting an ill temper. The Dom grabbed a leather binder and, together, he and Greg got it around Sherlock's arms. It wrapped around them from wrists to elbows, binding his arms together behind his back.

Sherlock growled and thrashed in the Doms' arms. John reached down and grabbed Sherlock's cock in his fist, or at least the best he could through the cage. That stilled the detective quickly enough, though it didn't do much for his attitude. John attached a leash to the cage and tugged on it. As anticipated, Sherlock's knees buckled.

The Superintendent steadied him as he fell to the floor. "Let's get his feet cuffed together," he said as he held Sherlock down.

John couldn't agree more. He buckled the cuffs around his boy's ankles, then sat back and looked up at Greg, laughing. "Thanks, mate."

"No problem," he glanced over towards Mycroft. "I suppose that one wants you now."

"Tough shit, I'll just leave him hanging. He's hardly going anywhere."

John tossed the Superintendent Sherlock's leash, then climbed to his feet. "I don't suppose there's a fucking machine hiding around here, because his arse needs a pounding."

"There is one, but it's in one of the other rooms."

John glanced between the boys.

"Have you got these two covered?"

"Well I doubt either is going anywhere."

Sherlock glared up at the greying haired man in annoyance.

"I'll go find it then." John headed for the door.

"Look in the outer space room. I thought it fit in nicely with the chrome and science fictiony feel."

"Are you serious?"

Greg shrugged. "Am I ever serious?"

"Well you had to be at some point. You've got one Holmes hanging from the ceiling and the other knelt at your feet."

"And I'm loving it, but, yeah, it really is outer space themed, complete with a police box."

John shook his head and went to get the fucking machine, laughing the whole way.

Sherlock was still glaring at the older man. "Bored," he tried to proclaim around his gag for no reason as he struggled slightly in his confines.

Greg stepped forward and gripped him by his chin, he carefully removed the gag. "I suggest you drop that word from your vocabulary or you may end up getting more than you bargained for."

"It's my favourite word," he growled, teeth close together.

"It's your only word," Greg countered. He walked around him for a moment then paused just behind. He pushed his foot between his legs and nudged at his caged cock.

Returning with the machine, John watched the other Dom as he teased Sherlock. "Now what's he done?" he asked as he set the machine down.

"You're boy is 'bored'." Greg nudged the detective's cock from left to right.

"Oh he is, is he?"

John's tone of voice alone made Sherlock looked down quickly. What he wouldn't do to swap places with Mycroft round about now.

Going over to their bags, John dug out a specially formulated lube. It was one that was designed for BDSM usage and it provided a nice burn when used with a dildo. He decided it would make a nice addition to the fucking his boy was going to get from the machine. He deserved it with his current attitude.

"Will that machine work upwards?" Greg asked.

"Upwards?"

"Leave him tied like that. It's got to be more uncomfortable than leaning on a bench."

The doctor crouched down and looked at the machine. He pressed a button and the entire assembly rotated ninety degrees on the base. "Yup." He grinned. "It'll work upwards. This thing must have cost a fortune."

"Yeah, Mycroft's fortune."

Mycroft grumbled something, trying to spin and face the other three men. When he had nearly managed it, Greg reached out and pushed him back around.

John found the largest dildo they owned that could be used with the machine and attached it. He lubed it up, then he worked some lube into Sherlock's hole.

Sherlock looked over his shoulder and glared as John played with his hole.

"Posture collar?" John asked from his knees.

Greg nodded, and went off in search of one.

The detective started squirming, his inner muscles twitching and clenching as the lube started to burn.

"Just wait until this thing is pounding into you," John said, thrusting his fingers in deep.

Sherlock grumbled his complaint which got more vocal as Greg forced the posture collar around his neck.

"You, pretty boy, are being a naughty little brat, the Superintendent told him with a smile.

Positioning the machine just so, John pushed the dildo right up against his pet's entrance. He looked up so he could see Sherlock's face, then he flicked the machine on.

"His glare would get through solid steel," Greg laughed.

John ruffled Sherlock's curls as the machine began to move up. "It sure would."

The Superintendent reached over and spun Mycroft around so he could see the view. "Your brother is damned hot, isn't he, pet? Just think of the people who would pay to see this."

Mycroft huffed.

"You're a pretty picture too, pet. Don't start sulking."

Sherlock barked a laugh at that; his brother, sulking?

Two chains dangled from the posture collar with nipple clamps on the ends. John casually reached out and closed them on Sherlock's pink nubs. It helped complete the picture somehow.

Sherlock had squeezed his eyes shut. The machine was fucking into him relentlessly and the lube was burning something fierce.


	5. Walk with Me?

If Sherlock tried to lean back into the thrusting of the fucking machine, it meant his whole upper body had to move. The chains hanging from the collar pulled and tugged against Sherlock's nipples.

The doctor cupped his pet's bollocks in his hand, weighing them, then he gave them a tug. "If Mycroft wasn't otherwise occupied, I'd ask Greg to let him suck on these."

Sherlock glared up at the Dom, but for some reason he didn't open his mouth.

John slapped him. Of course that action made Sherlock jerk where he knelt and he yelled out.

Mycroft's mouth watered as he watched his brother squirm. He wished he could have his brother's balls in his mouth. He'd suck on them one by one and bite them, making him writhe even more.

Greg ran his hand roughly over the government official's head.

"Greg, mate, do you want to make him squirm some more?" John asked.

"How?"

"Well he'll have to move onto all fours, it'll mean uncuffing him." John nodded to one wall.

"A humbler? He'd have to come out of the cage too."

"Doesn't mean he gets to come."

"You are a wicked man," the Superintendent said happily.

John took that as a compliment and went to pick a humbler out from the collection.

"John," Sherlock called out after him. "That's not- ow!" He yelped again as Greg tugged on the two chains.

"Shut up, boy." Greg wasn't sure how to change the position of the machine so he would have to wait for John, but he could uncuff the younger man and redo them up in front of him.

Sherlock tried to jerk his arms free from Greg's grip, but his hole was on fire and he lost his balance, falling into the Superintendent's arms.

Greg burst out laughing. "You are all over the place." He secured the cuffs in front of him and then forced him down, not caring that it changed the angle of the attacking dildo.

Sherlock bowed his head, resting it on the Superintendent's hip. The blasted machine was hitting just the right spot. He groaned and shook, unable to put together a coherent thought.

John returned with the humbler and flicked the machine off. "Don't worry, brat, it won't be off for long."

A deep chuckle came from across the room and the Superintendent looked over at Mycroft, still swaying to himself.

Greg reached out and grabbed Mycroft, swinging him close. "What's so funny, chuckles?"

The government official looked down at his brother, his eyes still full of mirth.

"He is quite a sight," Greg said, nodding. He set Mycroft swinging and caught him after a few spins.

By this point, John had Sherlock's cuffs tied to the floor, and had his cock free from its confines.

Head hanging, the detective watched as his Dom locked the humbler in place. There wasn't a thing he'd be able to do once John repositioned the fucking machine.

Greg seemed to catch on to exactly what Mycroft had been laughing at. "Is that something you want me to do to you?"

"No, sir," Mycroft replied quickly.

John glanced up as he lined the dildo up with Sherlock's hole. "I'm not so sure you mean that, boy." He flicked on the machine and looked back down as the dildo disappeared into his boy again and again.

Sherlock groaned and lowered his head down to rest on his cuffed wrists. It couldn't have been comfortable, given the posture collar, but he didn't complain.

Greg reached between Mycroft's legs and grabbed his caged cock. "I'm going to take this off of you, but that doesn't mean you get to come, not any more than your brother is going to get to."

Mycroft had to stop himself from pouting. "Yes, sir," he moaned. Mycroft squeezed his eyes shut as the Superintendent fiddled with the cage.

When Greg removed it, he stroked his pet's cock until it was nice and hard, then he gave it a slap, causing Mycroft to wince.

John had straightened up after finishing off playing with the fucking machine. He glanced over at Greg and barked out a laugh.

"I bet the pair of them wish they were still caged."

"If they don't, they should." Greg had a clamp in his hand from which dangled a weighted chain. He held it up for Mycroft to see. "Guess where this is going."

"Sir, please, no." The government official tried to swing away, but only made Greg laugh.

The Superintendent grasped Mycroft's cock and applied the clamp to the tip.

Mycroft screwed his eyes tightly shut. When extra weights were added and he yelped Sherlock looked up to see what was happening.

He growled when the posture collar kept him from getting a good view. All of a sudden, he felt the need to fight. Sherlock pulled against the cuffs fiercely, ignoring how his struggles made the clamps pull at his nipples. Even so, the fucking machine kept up its relentless pace.

John just folded his arms and watched. If Sherlock wanted to fight and exhaust himself then so be it. "You quite done, boy?" John asked, nudging the sub's uncomfortable looking cock with his foot.

The detective rested his forehead on his wrists as he fell quiet. If John would just rub his cock a little more... it wasn't satisfying, couldn't be, not the way he was currently locked up. God, he hoped John wouldn't keep him in the humbler all evening.

"You boys have decisions to make," John randomly blurted out. "You have a choice between walking along the beach or getting an orgasm."

Both Holmeses knew they weren't really being given a choice between an orgasm and a walk on the beach. They were being given the choice between an orgasm and an evening of suspending the BDSM games, an evening of cuddles, an evening of being treasured.

"Do you want to confer?" Greg asked lightly.

"No. N-No orgasm, sir," Sherlock panted.

"And you?" Greg asked knocking the weights hanging from Mycroft's cock.

The government official groaned. He wanted an orgasm so badly, but he knew he'd never be able to stand seeing his brother being treasured whilst he knelt in the corner or some such. "A walk on the beach, sir," he said, defeated.

The two Doms shared grins.

"Good decision." John went and fell on the bed. In a matter of seconds Greg had collapsed beside him.

"Er… sir?" Sherlock called out after a few minutes had passed without anything happening. Well, nothing happening besides being thumped up the arse by the dildo.

"What, boy?" John asked. 

"Are you g-going to untie us?"

"No. Not right now."

"But-"

"But nothing. That wasn't part of the deal!" John cut him off.

Sherlock fumed as the two Doms giggled. For his part, Mycroft started thrashing madly. "Gregory! That's not fair!"

"Yeah, well, neither is the way you treated us at that club the other night."

The government official huffed. "That is completely different."

Greg elbowed John. "The bedside table has a mini fridge under it. It should be stocked with beer. Pass me one, would you?"

"Great idea," John agreed. The doctor reached down and plucked out two beers.

"Cheers,." They chinked bottles before taking a sip.

"How long do you think we can draw this out?" John asked.

"I don't know, I almost feel sorry for them."

"Seriously?"

Greg thought about the debacle at the club the other day. "Well, no."

"John!" Sherlock yelled out.

The blond sighed, he should have gagged the brat. "What do you want, Sherlock?" He asked, sipping his beer again.

"I want you to quit bloody teasing me! I either want a fucking orgasm or the walk on the beach you promised me."

"You chose a walk on the beach. At no point did I give you a specific time that that walk would occur."

"This isn't fair!" That time it was Mycroft who argued.

Greg reached up and gave him a push with his foot, making him start swinging and twisting in circles. "Any more of that, and we won't go for that walk until tomorrow."

"Then let me get off!"

"Here! Here!" Sherlock agreed.

John groaned, dumped his beer on the unit and rolled to his feet. He walked the few paces to his sub and toed his cock. "What was that, boy?"

"You heard me," the detective said sulkily. His bottom lip was poking completely out.

John grabbed said lip and tugged it. "Do you really think you're in a position to make demands?"

Sherlock tried to move away from the machine, but of course he didn't succeed.

"I've already given you a choice and you've already decided. That does not mean you can change your mind when you please."

"Please," Sherlock begged, switching tactics. "We picked time with you over orgasms. Doesn't that mean something?"

The doctor glanced over at the other Dom. "What do you think Mr. Lestrade?" He asked. "Do you think that means something? Or do you think it means something else?"

"I don't know, Doctor Watson. It could be a ploy. They could be trying to make us feel sorry for them."

"Do we feel sorry for them?"

Greg glanced across at his boy, who was staring at the floor and then to Sherlock who was now doing the same.

"Maybe just a tiny bit." Greg went over and smooth down Mycroft's hair.

"Enough to let them go?"

"Well... yeah. They're rather pitiful."

"Finally," Sherlock groaned.

"Actually, mate. I'll help you with Mycroft first, leave this one just where he is for a while longer."

Sherlock groaned, but didn't argue further. He didn't want to risk upsetting either Dom.

Greg lowered his boy to the floor and they started working on his bonds. When Mycroft was free of all the rope he closed his eyes at what John was holding. "Cage is going back on, boy," the doctor told him.

"Sir, you don't have to."

"We do," Greg corrected.

John tossed the cage to the Superintendent, then looked back over his shoulder at his boy. "Anything to say about that?"

"No, sir." Sherlock actually hoped John would hurry up and cage him. It would be better than staying in the humbler.

The doctor left the machine thumping along to itself as he crouched down to remove the humbler.

Greg produced some ice from somewhere and John pressed it to Sherlock's bollocks.

"Cold! Cold, cold, cold!" the detective shouted.

"Well, what did you expect? As hard as you were, I wasn't getting the cage on any other way."

"A bit of warning would have been nice."

John let his palm fall on his sub's arse, the ice still in his hand.

"Is that any better?" He asked sarcastically.

"Why don't you just throw me out in the snow when it falls next time. I bet you'd love that."

John slapped his arse again. "Don't temp me."

Sherlock closed his eyes and let John get on with it. He still had the posture collar around his neck, and his hands were still cuffed.

When the fucking machine was removed and he was pulled upright, it was to see Greg, not John.


	6. The Beach

"Hello, gorgeous," Greg said as he reached out and pulled on the chains that hung from Sherlock's posture collar. He laughed at the hiss of pain the sub let out as the clamps tugged on his nipples.

"Kiss me," the Superintendent ordered.  
Sherlock would have complied with anything at that point if it meant getting out on the beach quicker. As it stood, kissing him wasn't that bad of a deal. He opened his mouth beneath the press of Greg's lips, granting him entrance. Sherlock melted under the Superintendent's ministrations, going soft in a way he hadn't all day.

"There we go," Greg muttered sarcastically, patting him on the head. "You gonna be a good boy now?"

"Yes, sir," he whispered.

The Superintendent removed one of the nipple clamps and smiled as the sub kicked the floor with tiny little kicks, then he removed the other one. He watched as Sherlock scowled at the wall and then reached forward to replace one of them.

"Ow! You bastard!"

Greg slapped him instantly. "Watch your mouth boy, or you'll be walking the beach with a gag in your mouth. I don't care who might see it."

Sherlock scowled, but the look the Superintendent was giving him made him avert his eyes.

"That's better." He looked over at John who was helping Mycroft. "See, you can be a good boy." Greg smoothed back Sherlock's hair, running his hands down to the clasp on the posture collar. He unfastened it and set it to the side, then massaged the sub's neck.

As soon as he felt his neck was loose enough, the detective lowered his head.  
Greg brought his head to his hip and held him for a moment.

After a few minutes, Sherlock let out a sigh. He felt more relieved than he had expected to feel. Soon, he and the others would be spending a different type of time together.

"Have you got that one?" Greg asked. At John's nod, he bent down and picked Sherlock up, "Shower first, then we can get chips on the beach."

The shower prooved to be incredibly large. It was practically a room in and of itself. There was more than enough room for the four of them.

Greg set Sherlock down on his feet and the detective looked around, grinning at the walk in shower. John flicked the hot water on from the side and pushed Mycroft over to join his brother.

The detective turned his face up into the streaming water and let it run over him. He gasped as, suddenly, John drew a lathered cloth between his arse cheeks.

The doctor chuckled. "It's a good job it's not cold, boy, that might have made you jump a little higher."

Sherlock just ducked his head as John continued washing the still sub.

The doctor ran the cloth over every inch of Sherlock's back, then he turned his pet around and started on his front. When he got to Sherlock's caged cock and bollocks, he washed them clinically, with as little stimulation as possible.

Sherlock moaned his complaint and tried shifting to get John to touch him in a more satisfying place.

"There's no point, boy, you're not going to orgasm from it and if you did we wouldn't be going out for a walk tonight."

"Yes, John, sir," Sherlock said as he leaned forward and stole a kiss.

It was so endearing that John stopped what he was doing, wrapped his arms around him and simply held him.

"This beats an orgasm," Sherlock whispered into his ear.

Mycroft let out an indignant yelp from a few feet away and the pair of them saw Greg leaning over and nipping at his reddened nipple.

"He's cute," the detective said, chuckling.

John looked over at the other couple and smiled. "Which one?"

"Mycie."

"Hey!" Greg exclaimed.

"You're cute too, sir," Sherlock added quickly. He hadn't meant it in that way, but Mycroft was pouting and it was rather adorable. He huffed a laugh into John's neck. "You're not cute, sir, you're gorgeous. Rugged. Handsome. Sexy."

"Alright. Stop kissing my arse."

Sherlock laughed again. "I could do that if you wanted me to, sir."

"I think we have plenty to be getting on with, brat." John watched as Greg led Mycroft from the shower. He reached over and turned off the water.

"Come with me, pet," Greg ordered. "I want to dry you off."

"But it's warm," Mycroft moaned.

"So are clothes."

Sherlock laughed. "It bloody well is with the amount of layers he wears."

"Not on holiday," Greg said firmly. "He's strictly wearing jeans and the shirts I picked out for him. Just wait until you see how they show off his arse."

Mycroft frowned. "That's no fair, I have to-"

Greg squeezed his arse. "I packed. One suit is in the car. One. And that is for a special occasion in a couple of days."

The Superintendent finished drying of his sub, then dragged him through to the main bedroom where their clothes were. He opened up one of their bags and got out a complete outfit for Mycroft. Mycroft pouted at the jeans. The shirt at least was partly suitable. "Don't sulk on me now, Mycroft."

"Is John forcing my brother into jeans?"

"I have no idea and, apart from a strictly aesthetic curiosity, I don't care."

"But, Gregory-"

"Your arse in those jeans now. I want to see how good it looks."

"If Sherlock gets to keep his suit, I will not-"

Greg slapped him. "Shut. It. Or I'll slap you again."

Mycroft let out a huff.

"Do you want me to put you on the naughty step? Bearing in mind, the only steps in this place are the ones outside the front door?

"No... sir." Mycroft dropped his gaze to the floor. "I don't want to be left alone."

"Good boy. Jeans." He held them out to his sub until Mycroft took them and started putting them on.

To both of their surprise, John dragged a fully dressed detective into their room. He was clad in a shirt and jeans, with one of John's jumpers on.

At the look on Sherlock's face, Mycroft almost lost it. He was suddenly much happier with Greg's choice of clothing for him.

"John, let me take a photo. Please," Greg begged. "I want to show that around at the Yard."

Before Sherlock could object, the doctor shook his head. "Nope. This is strictly for us."

"I'll pay you."

John laughed. "With what?"

"Mycroft?" The Superintendent offered, shoving his sub forward.

The doctor burst out laughing. "Great idea. But it's still no."

"Gregory!" the government official said, shocked. "How could you?!"

Greg grasped his sub by the scruff of the neck. "That's two slip ups, boy. I haven't given you permission to use my name."

Mycroft thought of arguing, but eventually averted his eyes.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

Greg nodded once. "I suppose that's one downside of you not being in your suits. You don't actually choke when I grab your collar dressed like that."

Mycroft chuckled at that and returned his gaze to his Dom's face. "And there's no tie to drag me around with, sir."

"I can fix that with a collar and a leash. Do I need to do that before we go for our little walk?"

Mycroft's gaze darted to Sherlock. "No, sir."

"Good. Then get that shirt on and a jacket and let's go. I'm starving!"

Mycroft did as he was told, then looked in the mirror. He had to admit the image he was presented with wasn't all bad. If Greg liked it... well, then, all the better.

John grabbed Sherlock's hand and yanked him towards the door.

"Oof, watch it, John."

The doctor cleared his throat, "What was that?"

"What? Oh, sorry, I meant 'sir'." He let John lead him out to the double doors that opened onto the beach, well on the side of the house facing the beach. A matter of seconds later, Mycroft and Greg joined them.

None of the other men saw it coming, but as soon as they reached the beach, Mycroft pulled out of Greg's grip, grabbed Sherlock's hand and ran off towards the sea.

John hit himself in the forehead with the palm of his hand. "Mate, we should have seen that coming a mile away."

The Superintendent shook his head ruefully. "When are we going to learn?"

"After so many years, clearly never."

Greg laughed. "Well, I'm for chips. I'm starving."

"Me too. But he hasn't eaten so I'm not sure what to do."

"Don't worry, I told Mycroft where we were grabbing food. He'll get yours there... eventually."

John let out a heavy sigh. "That's something, at least." He hooked his arm through Greg's and they started walking.

"John'll kill me if I get his jumper wet," Sherlock observed.

Mycroft laughed. "Just tell him it's his own fault. He shouldn't have made you wear it in the first place."

"I don't know why he likes these things. They hide how fit he is. It really is a sh-"

Mycroft swung him around and pressed their mouths together in a kiss.

Sherlock froze, then sank into it. "Getting a taste for dominance again, big bro?"

Mycroft smirked as he stepped back. "No, but there's a woman coming towards us, I'd prefer if she thought you were gay."

"I am gay."

"Mm, I didn't like the way she was looking at you. And you taste wonderful." He stole another kiss then pushed his brother back to arms length. "I'd better stop, or I'll waste too much time and get us in trouble."

"They have to catch us first," Sherlock laughed.

"I'm sad to say, Gregory made me swear on both our cages I'd have you back up there for food by 7."

"Food? Boring." Sherlock tried for another kiss, but Mycroft dodged it.

"Brother mine, don't make me pull out the Dom on you. We have to get going."

"You couldn't Dom me even if you wanted to. Your head isn't anywhere near in the right place for it."

"No… but I can tickle you." He reached forward and jabbed at his brother's ribs. Sherlock squealed like a girl and took off running in the other direction. Mycroft chased after him, catching him up and tackling him to the sandy beach. He landed on top of him and held him down.

Sherlock grumbled as they scuffled for a while. He somehow managed to spin over beneath the older man. "I was running for food, why are you stopping me?"

"You're track record is against you, 'Lock." Mycroft grasped him by the wrist and held on tight. "Now behave like a good boy. No more running."

Sherlock pouted. "I don't wanna be a good boy!" He tried to pushing Mycroft away, squirming and wiggling.

"You can be such a brat."

"I've had years of practice."


	7. Ice Cream with a Flake and As Many Sprinkles As It Can Hold

Mycroft heaved his brother to his feet, spinning him around and twisting his arm up his back. "I'm not about to disappoint Gregory and John." He started marching him towards the chip shop.

Sherlock didn't bother struggling, just went along with it. "It's not disappointing them you're worried about, it's keeping your cock locked up for a long time."

"It's all the same thing, brother mine."

As Mycroft marched him along, Sherlock turned his head to look over his shoulder. "Is there something wrong with us?"

"That we love this so much?" The government official shook his head. "Perhaps if our boyfriends didn't approve, you could convince me that there was, but no."

"But I love you."

Mycroft paused, still not releasing his hold.

"We had already established it was alright, little brother."

Sherlock nodded. "I know."

"Boys!" Came a yell from the bench, Greg's yell.

The elder Holmes redirected them towards where Greg and John were standing with their arms crossed.

As they got closer, the doctor dropped his fists to his hips. "Look at the two of you. You're both completely covered in sand."

Sherlock grinned and tried to pull his arm free.

"Let him go, Mycroft," John ordered.

"If I do, sir, I'm scared he'll run off."

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I don't think so." He crowded close to Sherlock. "Are you going to run away?" he asked dangerously.

Sherlock shook his head. "No, sir," he answered quickly. "Mycie's just being- ow!" He yelped, stamping his foot as Mycroft twisted his arm a little more.

"I'll be good be good, Mycie," the detective whinged, "I promised John. You can let me go."

Mycroft released him slowly, ready to grab his brother at the least provocation, but John took Sherlock firmly by the arm and started dusting the sand off of him.

"Your fault," Sherlock sulked.

"What?" Mycroft laughed, knowing exactly what his little brother was going to say.

"If you hadn't made me wear this I wouldn't have been forced to play in the sand with my brother."

John gave him a little shake. "My jumper better not be ruined. If it is, you're buying me three new ones. To my taste, mind you."

"Yes, sir. Although, technically it is Mycroft's fault."

"It is not! You ran off. I had to stop you."

"I was running towards our boyfriends!"

"You were running. You could have turned in any direction!" Mycroft pointed out.

Greg grabbed his sub by the arm and he and John separated the brothers.

"We may have to put you two in time out," John observed.

Sherlock poked his tongue out at his brother. "He started it."

John shut the detective up by wedging the end of a sausage into Sherlock's mouth. "Be quiet and eat that."

"You know, there's something about chips from a newspaper," Greg said as he forced a handful into Mycroft's mouth.

"Dirty fingers?" Sherlock offered.

"Shut it, you," the Superintendent shot at Sherlock.

Mycroft managed to chew and swallow his chips, then licked his lips. "I rather enjoyed the method of delivery." He smiled at Greg, then dropped his eyes to his Dom's fingers.

Sherlock was distracted by the seagulls hovering over the shoreline. "There must be whitebait down there," he said clapping his hands.

John snagged his collar before the detective could take off down the beach again. He then sunk down to the bench, pulling Sherlock down onto his lap. "Babe, if you can manage 15 minutes without annoying me, you may call me by my name, but that means no running away."

Sherlock pouted. "I'm not running away. It's just… that there, with the gulls, it's rare."

"He's right, John," Mycroft agreed. "We saw it once as children. Dad was with us, he said he'd never seen it before."

"Millions of these fish had been chased in by mackerel he said. But they couldn't turn because of the tide so they all flapped around in the shallow bit."

The doctor gave Greg a 'what else can we do' look and let Sherlock go. "Alright, but just go down to where the seagulls are gathered. Don't run off anywhere else."

Sherlock was 15 yards away when Mycroft whimpered.

"Fine. Go on."

The government official grinned at his Dom and took off after Sherlock.

"I suppose we should follow," John said with a smile. "It's the only way the sod is going to eat."

The two Doms gathered the chips up and wandered after their boys, smiling to see them so happy.

"John, look!" Sherlock came running up the wet sand, his hands cupped in front of him.

"You can eat them, you know," Greg said with a smirk.

In his hand Sherlock had two flapping fish.

He started to take a bite out of one, but John slapped it out of his hand. "Greg! What are you about, telling him that?! You know how he is!"

"I meant, they get cooked, you berk."

"They are a starter," Mycroft added, holding his own. "God, Sherlock, at least mine are dead. Put them back!"

"Why? The seagulls are only going to eat them anyway."

Greg had walked off several feet because he had lost it completely. He bent over double laughing. God, Sherlock was a handful. Thank God he belonged to John.

With a big pout, Sherlock went and dropped the fish back into the shallow waves.

Every time he caught a dead one he came back and John pushed some chips into his mouth.

The pile of fish had grown to quite a size. Mycroft cocked his head to the side. "John. I mean, sir, don't you think that's quite enough?"

"John's fine, and yes I suppose you're right."

"Boy, get your arse up here."

"But, sir-"

"Now, Sherlock."

The detective pouted and walked up the beach. "Yes, sir?"

John sniffed, then made a face. "I was going to give you a hug, pet, but you smell like fish."

Sherlock gave him a hug anyway.

"Oi! That's disgusting! Now we both need another shower."

"I'm not complaining, sir."

John shook his head, smiling and pushed the last few nearly cold chips into Sherlock's mouth.

"Sir," Sherlock whined after a moment.

"What?"

"I ate all the chips you gave me."

"So?"

"I want ice cream!"

John grinned wickedly. "After we have that shower, I have an idea for the ice cream." He grasped Sherlock by the nape and steered him back towards the house.

"No, John! I want ice cream on the beach!" He dug his heels in and folded his arms.

"Something else we did regularly as children," Mycroft added.

"It has to be all the flavours with a flake and sprinkles and strawberry sauce!"

"Fine, but two things. One, you wash your hands first and two, when we get back, I'm tying you up and riding you until you're begging me to come, but you don't get to unless I say so."

Sherlock frowned. "That's not fair!"

The doctor folded his arms and inclined his head questioningly.

"I thought we were going to have… never mind."

John noted the sound of true distress coming from his boy. "You thought we were going to have what? It's ok to answer. You won't get in trouble."

"It doesn't matter." Sherlock walked off, but in the direction of the house and not in the direction of the ice cream parlour the other side of the chip shop.

Mycroft cleared his throat as if he wanted to say something.

"Mycroft?" John asked.

"I believe my brother was expecting an evening of cuddles and such."

"Then why didn't he just say that?"

"Because you two have gone through the effort of setting this lot up."

"We're here for a few weeks. There's plenty of time for games," John replied.

"You know my brother, John."

The doctor sighed. "Yes, I do. I've completely bollocksed up and he'll be sulking about it for hours unless I can figure out how to knock some sense into him."

John set off after the detective.

With a heavy sigh, Mycroft grabbed Greg's hand and pulled him up the beach after the others.

"It's hardly your fault," Mycroft called after him.

They found Sherlock curled up in a chair in the living room of the house. His back was to the room.

John crossed over to him and crouched down behind him. "Pet. Sherlock. Love." He placed a finger on the detective's shoulder. "I wasn't thinking. I forgot I had promised you cuddles earlier." He rubbed Sherlock's arm, trying to soothe him. "We can play another day. Right now we can be just us."

Sherlock stayed facing the back of the sofa.

"Come on, babe, we can go back outside and get ice cream." The doctor glanced to the other couple for help.

Greg looked at him helplessly. Mycroft simply shrugged.

John set his face into a determined look. He picked up his boyfriend and carried him from the house. "We're getting ice cream with a flake and as many sprinkles as it can hold. And you know why? Because I love you."

Sherlock shifted in John's arms. "What about-"

"Nope. Be quiet."

Sherlock frowned, "Don't you want to-"

"I said, be quiet." He set him on his feet when they were outside and dragged him towards the ice cream parlour.

Sherlock reached out and took John's hand, but he didn't speak.

The doctor squeezed his boyfriend's hand back. "One thing, though, we both still need to wash our fishy hands." He placed a kiss on Sherlock's cheek.

"Maybe we should have done that in the house," Greg pointed out.

John shrugged. "Bit late to now."

"You'll be able to wash them in the shop," Mycroft stated the obvious.

"Sir," Sherlock said softly, "thank you."

"It's John, tonight, if you like."

"Mm, John." The detective moved closer and rested his head on his boyfriend's shoulder.

The four of them washed their hands at the small sink inside and then Sherlock actually skipped to the counter.

"All of them. With everything on top."

The woman the other side seemed overwhelmed for a moment. "We have 43 flavours-"

"Double scoops, then." Sherlock bounced on his toes. He spun around. "We can eat it together. All of us."

The woman frowned and Mycroft had to step in. "Sherlock, pick four."

He sighed dramatically, but nodded. "Fine. That one, that one and those two. But can we still eat it all together?" Sherlock asked hopefully.

"I don't see why not, if John and Greg don't object."

Neither of them did, which was a good thing because when the dish of ice cream was presented, it was far larger than they had anticipated.

Sherlock ran off to a small table, nearly knocking over a little boy who had appeared from nowhere.

John had to refrain from yelling at the prat.


	8. Not Fair!

Sherlock returned to the table with the bottles of sauces which he began to squirt all over the place.

John looked on fondly. "How can one man be so very child like at times and so very, very not at others. I mean, looking at him right now, would you image what we were up to earlier today?"

Sherlock just pretended he wasn't even in the room, quite enjoying the ice cream and ignoring the conversation around him. 

Mycroft couldn't resist for long and soon it was just the two Doms left chatting.

Greg watched the government official lick his spoon. It was far more obscene and arousing than it should have been. He kicked Mycroft under the table. "Stop that, Myc. It's doing all sorts of things to me."

"I'm only eating," he countered. 

"There's children around!" Greg hissed out between laughs. 

Mycroft smirked. "Well… good job it's just four blokes then."

"He did, didn't he?" The Superintendent turned on John. "He called us blokes."

"That's... scary. I think we're corrupting him."

Greg grinned. "I think it's nice. It's about time he loosened up and joined the rest if the world."

"He's the head of the rest of the world," Sherlock decided on entering the rest of the conversation.

"It's hardly the same thing," John said gently.

Greg chuckled. "That's the truth. Still, I like Myc just the way he is."

John laughed. "Of course you do."

"Mycroft, will you hurry up and bloody eat that, you're… distracting me," Greg complained.

"I'm meant to be, Gregory. I thought that, along with the cuddles, we might try something a bit... sweeter than our usual." Mycroft licked his spoon again, very deliberately.

Greg wanted nothing more at that point than to reach over the table, grab Mycroft's collar and pull him over his lap to spank his arse. The look on Mycroft's face said he knew that too.

Sherlock looked back and forth between the two men. He leaned over and whispered to John, "I don't want a spanking tonight." He blushed furiously. John tried to imagine what Sherlock was about to ask for that had turned him so pink. "I just want to cuddle and then have you fuck me long and slow."

"That's what you want, is it? Hmm?"

"Yup." He scooped up a spoon of ice cream and flew it like an aeroplane into Mycroft's mouth.

The flake was still there for the taking. Just for the hell of it, Greg made a grab for it, but Sherlock practically climbed on the table to get to it first. It crumbled under Sherlock's grip and the Superintendent laughed. 

"Sharing's caring, babe," John whispered. 

Sherlock glanced up and saw his brother still staring at him in concern. "What?"

"John..." Mycroft's gaze drifted to the doctor, "would you consider having him microchipped? It would ease my mind considerably."

The doctor laughed, then realised Mycroft was being perfectly serious. "That's a little inhumane, don't you think?"

"I don't mean like a dog. I mean… in his phone or something."

"No you didn't," Sherlock accused.

Mycroft looked down at his hands. "Well, I would prefer to put it in you, but I knew John would never give his permission for that. Pity."

"Because. I'm. Not. A. Dog," Sherlock growled out lowly. 

"Well you bloody well act like it," Mycroft complained.

Sherlock folded his arms. 

"Sherlock, don't start sulking, he's worried about you, that's all," John reassured him.

The detective waved his hands wildly. "I don't see him getting a microchip. I don't see him getting followed 24 hours a day. I don't..."

"Then you aren't observing, brother mine. The surveillance on me is worse than anything you have to endure and as for the microchip..." He reached up and rubbed a spot on his shoulder.

"You're joking? You're only a dog when you're with him!" He thrusted his thumb in Greg's direction. 

John had had enough, he leant over and whispered low in his ear, "Outside. Now."

Sherlock, in full pout, stood and followed his boyfriend out of the ice cream parlour. "John, I have no idea what you're upset about this time."

John shook his head slowly as the other two join them. 

Sherlock turned on his brother again. "Why did you let them do that?"

"I am, as you quite often put it 'the British Government'. I know things you will never know. That no one will ever know."

"And?"

"If I'm caught by some… psychopath that needs information only I know?"

"You would never tell!"

Mycroft folded his arms and stared at his oblivious baby brother. "My weakness is you, little brother."

Sherlock stood there for a moment, not reacting, then he lunged for his brother and wrapped his arms around him. "No, Mycroft, no. I wouldn't let anyone hurt you. I wouldn't let anyone use me or Greg or even John against you."

John smiled, feeling rather satisfied with himself, but more importantly proud of Sherlock. He reached over and took Greg's hand leaving the brothers together for a moment.

"He can go from arse to absolutely wonderful in under three seconds, can't he?" Greg asked, a smile on his face.

"Mm, well, he's not really an arse. He just doesn't always think."

"Makes him an arse in my book."

John laughed. "Fair enough."

The two of them started walking back towards the house and eventually Greg glanced over his shoulder. "Boys!" He yelled. "Come on."

The two Holmeses started following their boyfriends. They were walking hand in hand and taking their time.

Greg made a point of sighing heavily. "When you're quite ready!"

The pair of them, as if in sync started walking even slower.

John looked back. "Oh, let them have their time together. We don't give them enough. As long, that is, as they keep coming this way."

"John, I don't trust them."

"Hmm?"

"They're acting shifty and I'm fairly certain the pair of them will leg it in any second."

"If they leg it, the cuddling is off." John turned and shouted at the brothers. "Do you hear that? If you leg it, the cuddling is off!"

The brothers shared pointed glances, but there was a clear message there. Cuddles meant too much. Deciding on the spot, they both charged at their boyfriends at full speed.

John and Greg found themselves tackled to the ground. Both of them were getting covered in kisses. It was completely overwhelming.  
\---  
Sherlock woke the next morning before any of the others. He rested his cheek on the palm of his hand and enjoyed watching his Dom sleep. He knew John would find it a bit creepy if he knew, but he didn't. He never did, that was the beauty of it. All too soon he was bored, he rolled over and jumped on his Dom. "Wake up, John! Wake up right now!"

"Wha- Is there a case?" The doctor batted his sub away, not awake enough to really think. "Did Greg call?" He sat up, rubbing at his eyes and groaning.

Sherlock laughed. "No. We're on holiday, you moron. We're on holiday and I'm bored."

John's face turned from panicked to pissed off in a blink of an eye. "I was asleep you complete wanker!" The Dom grabbed Sherlock by a nipple and twisted it.

"Owie!"

"Shut. Up!"

Sherlock glared at him. "All I did was wake you up, what's the big-"

"You never just wake me up. You proceed to be a brat the rest of the day."

The detective let his bottom lip tremble artfully and he produced just the slightest sheen of tears. "But, sir, I only wanted your company."

"Oi! That may work on witnesses, but I know better, boy." John slapped his sub's thigh. "Out of bed with you."

"But-"

"Now, Sherlock!"

Greg grumbled from beside them. "What are you two doing?" He complained.

"Don't blame me," John groused. "It's your consulting detective causing all the trouble." He buried his head under a pillow.

"Doesn't work that way, mate," the DI said, his voice rough with sleep. "He's your sub. Do something about him."

"I am here!" Sherlock protested.

"Shut up!" Both Doms ordered at once.

"Go away," Mycroft moaned from where he had slid down the bed.

"Hey!" Sherlock complained.

John sighed heavily. "I should give you one hell of a spanking for this, but I can't be bothered because I'm so tired." He pushed him to his knees in the corner. "Put your hands behind your head and stay there. I am going back to bed. I'll deal with you later."

The sub glared at the wall in front of him. The whole situation was hateful. Why should he stay in the corner if John was just going back to sleep? He waited ten minutes, then he got up and went in search of something not boring to do, but by that point John had already fallen back asleep again, one foot dangling out of the bed and his head on Mycroft's chest.

Sherlock really didn't think the small explosion was his fault. Clearly his supplies had been mislabeled by Mycroft's people when they had packed them. He was trying to find the fire extinguisher when John, Greg and Mycroft came running into the room, the smoke alarm blaring behind them.

"It wasn't my fault!" Sherlock exclaimed when John walked dangerously towards him.

The doctor snatched his sub by the curls and forced him to his knees.

Greg quickly found the fire extinguisher and put out the small blaze.

"Sherlock," John growled, "I distinctly remember leaving you in the corner with clear orders to stay there."

"But, sir. Those orders weren't fair!"

"What part of them wasn't fair? If you can give me a decent answer I'll let you off."

Sherlock's mouth opened and closed several times before he huffed.

"Right. I thought so." John gave Sherlock's curls a shake. "Forehead to the floor, arse in the air. Now!"

The sub stuck out his lip, but did as he was told.

"I distinctly remember Greg and I discussing with the pair of you about how things have changed. How much stricter things have become. Do not think you are going to get away with this, boy, not at all." The Dom punctuated his speech with a hard slap to Sherlock's arse. He had hit him hard enough to leave a bright pink handprint on the creamy flesh of the sub's bum.

"Sir-"

"Shut it," John hissed. "Not only did you blow up your mini lab, you defied me to do it. Mycroft would you fetch me something you know your brother would not like?"

"Yes, sir."

Sherlock thumped his forehead against the floor a couple of times in frustration.

"Stop that!" John barked, swatting his boy on the thigh. "Don't make this worse than it already is. Grab a posture collar while you're gone!" John yelled after the retreating government official.

Sherlock growled and kicked the floor with his foot. All he had wanted was an interesting morning and to avoid boredom. All he seemed to have managed was to wake up ridiculously early and piss his Dom off twice in as many hours.


	9. Impossible

Mycroft appeared with the posture collar and a cock cage. John had to stifle a laugh. The elder Holmes brother certainly knew Sherlock quite well.

"Ta, Mycroft," the doctor said as he took the two items. "Kneel up boy," he ordered.

Sherlock could tell by the way Mycroft had walked in and his Dom's response that he wouldn't like it. "No," he growled.

John grabbed a handful of dark curls and pulled his sub up so that he was forced to kneel. Sherlock's eyes immediately went to the cock cage. "Sir, no! I don't deserve that!"

"Don't you?" He snapped. He took the gag from Mycroft and wedged it between Sherlock's lips on his next complaint. John threw the cage to the other Dom, while he pinned his sub's arms behind his back. "Would you mind, mate?"

"Not at all." Greg crouched down and locked the cock cage on Sherlock, giving his bollocks a slap in the process. "What is it with you? You could have blown us all up."

Sherlock just glared at him, there was nothing else he could do.

"Go and fetch some nice steel cuffs," Greg ordered his own sub, while he buckled the posture collar around Sherlock's neck.

Mycroft was just as annoyed with his brother as the two Doms were. He came back with a particularly restrictive set of cuffs and handed them to Greg who in turn handed them to John.

The doctor stared at them for a moment, wondering if Sherlock deserved them, but when the kneeling man began struggling John decided he did.

Without being asked, Mycroft assisted John in getting the cuffs on Sherlock. As soon as they had been closed around his wrists, the three men stepped back from him to see if he would calm down. The look on his face, clearly said otherwise.

"Kneel," Greg ordered his own sub as he moved forward with John to drag Sherlock to his feet.

Mycroft went swiftly down onto his knees, not wanting to get caught up in whatever was about to happen to his brother. He was certain it wouldn't be good.

Sherlock thrashed and pulled and nearly knocked the three of them over with the amount he was struggling.

Sighing heavily, John let Greg take control and the Superintendent threw the younger man into the wall. It startled Sherlock so much that he actually went still. The olater Dom took advantage of the fact and threw him over his shoulder. "To the playroom?" he asked.

"My thoughts exactly," John agreed. "Just toss him over one of the benches."

"Which one?" Greg laughed.

"Oh yeah… lets go to one we haven't seen yet."

"Well, you've seen them all. We haven't used the wet room yet though. Holmes on your feet," Greg ordered his kneeling sub.

Mycroft stood and followed the two Doms, keeping his hands behind his head resting at his nape. He couldn't help but shake his head at his brother who had started struggling again.

John made a point to rest his hand at the small of Mycroft's back, in Sherlock's view. "Shame your brother is so well behaved, Sherlock."

The detective let out a muffled protest and kicked his feet. Greg smacked him sharply on the arse twice. "Stop that!"

At the door to the wet room, John reached around the Superintendent and his burden and pushed the door open. The whole room was tiled, a shower head in one corner and a hose in another. There was plenty of equipment lining the edges, including an enema set, beside the waterproof bench.

Too late, Sherlock realised his mistake. He could see the look on John's face and it didn't take much of a deductive leap to know what was about to happen next. He hid his face against Greg's back, knowing he had started to blush. Sherlock quickly found himself thrown over said bench and pinned down by one Dom while the other tied him down.

Mycroft had dropped to his knees by the door.

John kicked his boy's feet wide apart so Greg could tie them that way. "I think that pink hole of yours needs to be filled up, boy. Luckily, this room has just what we need to do it."

Sherlock shook his head, or as much as he could given the collar.

"Mycroft, make yourself useful," the Superintendent ordered, "set up a pepper enema for your brother."

"Yes, sir." The government official hid his surprise and went to do as he had been told. His insides were clenched up in sympathy for his brother, although the memory of the morning's small explosion dampened it a bit. He prepared the enema precisely as he knew his Dom wanted it done, then carried it to him.

"Hang it up," Greg ordered.

By now, John had two fingers in Sherlock's hole, working him open as quickly and as thoroughly as he could.

The detective made a sound of protest when his Dom's fingers left his hole. He knew what was coming next and wasn't looking forward to it.

"Kneel there," John ordered Mycroft once he had set up the hateful enema bag.

Mycroft dropped to his knees immediately.

The doctor eased the nozzle into his sub's hole, working it in until it was at just the right depth, then he removed the clamp, letting the fluid flow into him.

Sherlock grunted, thrashing in his restraints. He was clearly feeling the need to anger the Doms even more.

Soon enough, though, a low burn set in. It felt like an itching at first, then it rapidly grew in intensity. It wasn't long before he was shifting about for an entirely different reason.

John stood back and folded his arms across his chest. He knew how much Sherlock despised enemas, they had only ever been used in punishment before as it wasn't something that turned John on.

When every drop had been delivered, the Dom removed the nozzle and replaced it with a plug. "We'll just give that time to get your full attention, then see if you feel like behaving."

Sherlock tried to glare at his Dom over his shoulder, but obviously couldn't.

"We could always just leave you like that, boy. Or maybe Greg can fuck your brother in front of you."

Mycroft looked up at that, wondering how his Dom would react.

Greg grinned. "Boy, come here." He held out his hand and motioned his sub over. Greg pulled out a folding chair and collapsed into it.

Mycroft knelt up between the Superintendent's legs.

"Good boy," Greg whispered.

John climbed on top of Sherlock and sat on his back.

The detective's face had flushed a bright red and the colour was creeping down his chest. He would have been making pleading sounds, but he was biting the gag to help himself stay silent. He found himself slipping into subspace, but didn't want to be. He tried to shift to see if he could make John move, but it didn't work.

The doctor gripped Sherlock by the curls and pulled tightly. He could tell that his boy had almost reached subspace. It wouldn't take much to push him over the edge, leaving him with a soft, compliant boy.

Before he was fully under Sherlock began to fight again, shifting and bucking as much as the restraints would allow.

"Pack it in!" John ordered sharply.

Sherlock kept fighting until his Dom turned and smacked him on the arse three times, hard. "The longer you take to settle, the longer that stays inside you." John rolled his eyes when Sherlock stilled, but immediately began fighting again when he had turned himself around once more.

Greg sighed, stopping his petting of Mycroft's hair. "Would you like my boy to get the riding crop for you, John? He'll be more than happy to."

John hummed happily. "Maybe you should, boy."

"And then he is sucking me because I am rock hard," Greg said, laughing.

John stared at the other Dom for a moment and then burst out laughing himself.

Mycroft scampered over to the table and fetched the riding crop, the he rushed back and handed it to John. In almost no time, he had knelt back in front of his Dom and was eyeing Greg's cock eagerly.

"Love the enthusiasm, boy," Greg laughed. He leant forward and shoved his fingers into Mycroft's waiting mouth.

Sherlock let out a low whine, but the government official ignored it. Mycroft sucked on his Dom's fingers and licked them, looking up at Greg through his lashes.

"Keep going, boy," the Superintendent ordered. "You're making your brother get hard."

Mycroft chuckled and renewed his efforts. He couldn't wait for his Dom to remove his fingers from his mouth and let him really get to work.

Greg could clearly tell because he left his fingers in Mycroft's mouth far longer than he had originally intended.

Sherlock growled his frustration and discomfort even as he renewed his struggles. John stood and, without a word of warning, brought the riding crop down across the plumpest part of his sub's arse.

"Just hit the plug, mate," Greg laughed.

"Ooh, that's cruel."

The older Dom laughed. And then even more so when John actually brought the crop down on the plug.

Sherlock howled, though it was muffled by the gag. Actual tears came to his eyes and he would have kicked his feet if they hadn't been tied in place, but just for the pure principle of it, the detective continued to struggle.

"Be still, Holmes!" John barked, his tone sharp. There was nothing for it, the doctor let the crop fly several times in a row until Sherlock was making heavy breathing sounds around his gag. "Have you had enough, boy?" John asked, panting.

Sherlock tugged at his cuffs pathetically and then fell still.

Greg had his head tilted on one side, watching as events unfolded. His fingers fell from Mycroft's mouth. The sub took it as his cue to latch onto the Superintendent's cock, startling him in the best way.

"Ok then," Greg laughed.

That made Sherlock moan and begin his struggle anew.

"Bloody hell, John, what did you feed him last night?"

"It wasn't sugar cubes and caffeine tablets." John swatted him with the riding crop again. He couldn't believe Sherlock was still struggling. The pepper enema had to be driving him mad by now. He walked around and crouched in front of his boy. "If you want that plug out, you're going to have to do better than that."

Sherlock glared at him.

"Safeword now if you want this to stop, if not you are in so much more trouble."

The detective just renewed his glare.

John had been about to ask Mycroft to fetch some pegs, but Greg let out a particularly lascivious moan. The doctor laughed and went to get the pegs himself.


	10. Strain

John stood to the side and waited until Greg was done with his kneeling sub. "Sorry, mate, did you need my help?"

"Yours and his," Greg jerked his head in Mycroft's direction. "Got to get these on his nipples some how."

Together, they untied him enough to make him kneel up. Whilst John applied the pegs to his boys nipples, Greg and Mycroft used a length of rope to tie the detective in his kneeling position. The rope wrapped around his calfs, tying them to the bench so he couldn't move his legs at all.

John was sure he would be baring his teeth if he could.

The new position made the burning, cramping discomfort in Sherlock's gut even more pronounced. He knew he should stop fighting so he could get some relief, but he couldn't seem to make himself. It was like he couldn't stop himself.

It came as a complete surprise when John used the crop to flick the pegs off of his nipples one at a time. After that his Dom used his fingers to twist them this way and that. Sherlock closed his eyes, then opened them wide when John bit down on his nipples, hard.

A broken whimper came out around the gag and John muttered, "Aww, Lockie's nipples are hurting." It amazed the Dom how still Sherlock had gone. He teased his boy's nipples even more, twisting them and biting them until they were red and puffy from the abuse, then he applied a pair of clover clamps that bit down sharply. He began pulling and twisting them, revelling in the small whimpers Sherlock was letting out.

Soon, the sub was completely overwhelmed. His nipples ached and burned. His insides were on fire and cramping. He couldn't control the sounds he made or the tremors that ran through him.

John stood in front of his sub and folded his arms, watching. Of course, Sherlock didn't know he was there.

"What do you think, Greg? Think he deserves a reprieve?"

"Just a small one. Empty him out, but don't untie him. You can always fill him back up if he starts giving you more trouble."

John moved forward and gathered up a bucket and a towel. "If you would do the honours, Greg?"

The Superintendent removed the plug and everything flowed gracelessly from Sherlock's hole into the bucket. The detective turned an even brighter red beneath the hood as the process completed itself. John flushed the waste away, then he used a hose to wash his boy down before using the towel to dry him off.

Sherlock knelt waiting for the Dom's to untie him. He groaned when a minute had passed and that didn't happen. He quickly began struggling again.

John poked the tip of the riding crop handle into Sherlock's hole as a warning. The sub stopped struggling for a moment, then started up again. The Dom pushed it in deeper. He kept the crop there until Mycroft had created another enema and set it up. John smirked as he pushed the hose back into his boy's hole.

Sherlock let out a low, desperate moan. He hadn't expected another enema, though he should have. This time, the burn seemed to start almost immediately. He stilled straight away, hoping it was what John wanted to stop the torture.

It was what John wanted, but it didn't work. The water kept flowing.

Sherlock wriggled his arse trying to dislodge the nozzle, but it was too well seated. All he got for his trouble was a smack on the arse. He should have known it wouldn't work. Apart from that smack on the arse, he had no idea who else was still in the room.

John grasped the chain dangling from the clover clamps and pulled on it. He held the chain taught, giving it a few jerks.

Slowly, Sherlock lowered himself down, more than aware that it was what John was no doubt after. He distinctly felt the chain get tied to the bench and pulled taught. Now he daren't move. If he did, it would hurt beyond belief. He could already feel the strain in his back. It would only get worse.

John flicked the chain with his finger making Sherlock flinch.

The doctor went in search of Sherlock's leash. When he returned he clipped it onto his collar, trailed it down his back and tied it to the cock cage he had pulled back between his legs.

Greg sat back down and beckoned his boy over. "I think John has your brother well in hand. Get over here and finish what you started."

Mycroft grinned lopsidedly. "You've already come once, sir, you're getting on a bit… old."

"Come here before I drag you here and spank your arse."

Mycroft settled himself gracefully on his knees in front of Greg. He was up for the challenge. Leaning forward, he licked at his Dom's cock, teasing it until it started to fill out again.

"Hmm," Greg hummed happily, slouching back in his chair and gripping Mycroft's thinning hair in his hands.

Sherlock couldn't suppress the whine that built up in his throat. The pressure and the burning inside him had built to an incredible level.

John didn't seem to care, in fact, he seemed to find it amusing. "You deserve this, boy," the blond pointed out. "So don't look at me like that."

Tears welled in Sherlock's eyes, but he still didn't snap his fingers. He could take this. If John wanted him to, he could. He felt himself wanting to please his Dom, the fight leaving him, at least for the moment.

When John saw that on his boy's face, he gave him another few minutes then stopped the flow of water.

"You enjoying yourself, Greg?"

The Superintendent laughed. "Oh yeah."

Mycroft hummed around his Dom's cock in delight at the indirect praise, causing the Superintendent to gasp.

"Slow down, boy," Greg warned his sub. "I want this to last."

Mycroft popped off for a second. "You've already come once today, sir," he couldn't help but point out.

The younger man tightened his grip in his hair. "Be quiet, boy, and get to it, or you'll find yourself in a similar position to your brother."

"Yes, sir." Mycroft got back to work. He definitely didn't fancy the treatment his brother was receiving.

John ran his hand along Sherlock's back, not pinching or scratching, just rubbing smoothly along his spine. He watched his boy closely for further signs of rebelliousness, but for now he seemed to be calming down.

John switched the nozzle in his boy's arse for a plug. "You can keep that in for 10 minutes."

The detective managed a slight nod, a tear leaking from his left eye. John wiped the tear away and kissed him on the temple. He kept running his hand along Sherlock's spine, up and down, as he watched him. He moved his hands around his boy's chest and tweaked at his nipples, "That's a good boy," he whispered into his ear before biting his ear lobe.

Sherlock moaned, leaning into John as much as his restraints would allow. He wanted to be surrounded by his Dom, comforted, forgiven. He'd give anything to be able to beg.

John just watched. He didn't want anything from his brat unless it was subspace. He paced around him for a moment and then began to smack at his arse, jostling the liquid around inside him.

With each smack, Sherlock let out a low moan. He didn't seem to know he was doing it. His face screwed up tight for the first few blows, then it went slack and his eyes fell shut.

"Are you actually relaxing boy?"

Sherlock nodded his head slightly, careful to not jostle anything else.

Mycroft popped off of his Dom's cock and looked over his shoulder at his brother in disbelief. Without ceremony, Greg grabbed him by the ears and turned him back around, guiding him back onto his cock.

John looked up in time to watch and he laughed. "You're really going for it today."

Greg nodded. "We've come on a holiday suited to this. Why wouldn't I?""

"No reason at all." John removed his boy's gag, just to see if he would say anything. Sherlock didn't, he just kept making the little humming noises that had started when John had stopped smacking his arse. He tossed the gag onto a nearby table. "Boy, Sherlock, can you hear me?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're being my good boy, now, aren't you?"

"Mm, yes, sir."

"Alright. I'm going to take the plug out now, but you have to keep behaving."

"Yes, sir," Sherlock said for the third time.

John ran his hand down his boy's back and stopped at the plug. "You have to hold it in for me, Sherlock. Don't and you'll be punished."

Yet again, Sherlock replied, "Yes, sir."

When John slowly removed the plug, only the tiniest trickle oozed out before the sub clenched his hole tight. Sherlock's breathing sped up with the effort and his muscles trembled.

"I told you not to spill anything, Sherlock. Are you trying to disappoint me?"

"No, sir," Sherlock puffed. "I'm sorry, sir."

The doctor smiled at the back of his sub's head, knowing he wouldn't be able to see it. His boy really was trying to be good, but John still felt the need to push him just that bit more. The brat had woken them all up stupidly early, then disobeyed him and gone on to blow up the mini lab they had set up for him.

Greg let out an obscene moan and grasped Mycroft's head, pulling it in close. He came down his sub's throat with an absolute look of sheer bliss on his face.

At that Sherlock grumbled his complaint and began shifting. He was lucky the bucket was below him because he gave up trying to hold it all in.

John sighed. "That is disappointing, boy." He walked around in front of his sub and looked at him, shaking his head.

"But, sir-"

John slapped him hard across the cheek and the younger man could do nothing but take it with the way he was tied.

"Well I don't know what to do with you now, boy."

"I'm sorry, sir." Another tear leaked from his eye, but he still didn't snap his fingers. "You should do whatever you see fit, sir."

John folded his arms. "Oh, boy, should I now?"

"Yes, sir," Sherlock stared at his Dom's feet, feeling very disappointed in himself for letting his jealousy dictate his actions.

John reached forward and cupped the detective's cheek, tilting his head back. "You will be punished for that, but not with another enema."

The sub breathed a sigh if relief at that. It would have been excruciating to go through that again. "Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me yet."

"But-"

"Be quiet Sherlock! Do you really think you have a say in things at this moment in time?"

"No, sir," he whispered. "I'm sorry, sir."

"That's precisely the point, boy, you're not!"

Sherlock bit his lip, not daring to reply.

John whisked away the bucket, then hosed his boy off using only cold water. He toweled him off for the sake of the equipment. It wouldn't have mattered to him if Sherlock had started to shiver.

John untied him from the bench and pulled him to the floor by his curls.

"Go to the corner and stay there."

"Yes, sir," he muttered, head low.

Once the detective had reached the corner, he knelt up straight and put his hands behind his head.


	11. Persistence

John stared at the back of his sub, debating what to do to him next. Maybe he should make him listen whilst he used Mycroft to get himself off.

Mycroft had knelt back, looking away from Greg towards John. He had clearly read what the younger Dom was thinking.

"No, boy," Greg ordered. "Why don't you get a bowl of rice?" He laughed.

Seeing how the detective's back stiffened, John let out a bark of a laugh. "Right. Go ahead, Mycroft, do that. My pet will absolutely love picking it up off the floor and counting it."

Sherlock spun around so quick he nearly toppled over, then he got to his feet immediately. "Please, sir, no."

"Excuse me, boy?" John barked.

Flinching, the sub looked down at the floor, but he failed to turn back to the corner. "Please, sir," he tried one more time. "I'll be good."

John pointed at the floor in front of him. "Get here!" He yelled. "Now!"

Sherlock dropped to his knees and scrambled across the room as fast as he could.

Grabbing him by the curls, John shook his boy's head. "You are unfucking believable. You stood there, disobeying me whilst saying you would behave. Where's the sense in that?" He threw his boy sideways to the floor.

"John-"

"Shut it!" The doctor hissed. "I've had enough of your attitude today. Just as I thought you were settling, you mess up again and again. Greg, would you deal with it please?" With that John stormed from the room.

Sherlock crumpled into a pile and didn't move. He should have done better. He had wanted to please John, but he had opened his mouth, never a good idea during punishment.

"Get up!" Greg snapped. "Now!"

Sherlock pushed himself to his knees and the Superintendent grabbed his wrists, cuffing them behind him.

"Mycroft, go and check on John."

"Yes, sir."

Greg walked around Sherlock several times. "I suppose your proud of yourself, upsetting John. That's what you enjoy, getting a rise out of people. Sally, Anderson, John."

"No! Not John. Never John!"

"I didn't give you permission to speak."

Sherlock flinched and ducked his head.

"Do you think anything in the last hour given me reason to believe what you've just said?"

Sherlock opened and closed his mouth a few times, "No, sir." The detective had turned bright red with shame. He had never intended to treat his Dom in such a manner. Why did he have to wind him up?

"I didn't think so." Greg collapsed back in the chair he had sat in minutes before. "Kneel up straight, lower your head and do not move."

The sub tried his best to do as ordered, but he was soon feeling sorry for himself and sniffling.

Greg wasn't impressed. Sherlock was like the child who was sorry he had got caught breaking a rule, but didn't give a toss that he had done it.

"Stop snivelling like a baby!" Greg snapped harshly. "Grow up. It is never our fault you need punishing Sherlock. If it was our fault you would not be being punished!"

The sub bit his lip to try and stop, but it didn't really work. Suddenly, he couldn't take it anymore. Despite being cuffed, he leapt to his feet and ran towards the door. He needed to find a place to hide where he could wallow in his shame and self pity.

Greg had predicted exactly that response. It was what Sherlock always did when faced with something he didn't like. Run away. Sometimes it was good. Today wasn't one of those times.

Greg caught him easily and threw him into the wall.

"Let me go, Lestrade!"

The Dom slammed him into the wall again. “Use your safe word and I'll uncuff you. You can walk out of here then. Otherwise, shut your mouth." He waited to see what would happen.

Sherlock didn't do anything but glare at the older man.

"Fucking hell, you really are asking for trouble, aren't you? You just can't help yourself."

"Piss off! I need to find John."

"You need to let him calm down. Mycroft is taking care of him." Greg did a manoeuvre and had Sherlock on the floor, pinned down under him. Greg managed to pin his kicking legs. "Do you think John would really want to deal with you right now? We came here on holiday for Christ sake!"

"Don't care!"

"I can sit on you as long as it takes you to calm down." Greg crossed his arms and settled in for the long term.

"Then what?"

"We hadn't planned any possible punishments, Sherlock, this was a holiday! If two enemas isn't enough I don't know what will be."

"I didn't mean to blow anything up," the sub said sulkily.

"I know you didn't, but you have to be more careful and it's not just about that. It's about your attitude since then." Greg sighed. Maybe we should send you away for a couple of days. Put Anthea in charge of you for a bit."

Sherlock's struggling was renewed.

"Stop it!" Greg's voice was incredibly stern. "You not only exploded your little lab, you disobeyed John to do it."

Mycroft came back into the room. "John thought you might need my assistance, sir"

"Thank god. Get some rope and help me get him tied up. He's absolutely wild."

"John knows you too well," Greg growled in the detective's ear. He held his feet still while Mycroft began to tie his feet.

They worked together until Sherlock had been tied from feet to the tops of his arms. The ropes kept him from moving, unless he wanted to thrash in an undignified fashion like a fish.

"Now what?" Mycroft asked. For once, he couldn't work out what the hell was going on with his little brother and at he moment, he didn't really care.

"Gag," Greg said, pointing at one on a nearby table.

Mycroft fetched it and handed it to his Dom.

The Superintendent had it pressed into Sherlock's mouth and buckled in place in moments. "Now we leave him here. I've had enough." It was safe enough, there was a camera in this room like there was in all the playrooms. They could monitor him for safety from anywhere in the house.

Greg held his hand out to take Mycroft's.

The sub held it immediately.

"Come on then, babe, where's John?"

"He face planted in our bed," Mycroft said with a worried frown. "I don't like it."

Greg sighed. "I don't like it either."

They stopped and grabbed a laptop so they could keep an eye on Sherlock, then headed to their bedroom, but when they reached their room they saw John was already doing just that. The doctor was laid out on their bed watching his own laptop screen.

He gave a harsh laugh. "He's in rare form." John rolled over and set the laptop on the bedside table. "How does he get himself so damned worked up?"

Greg smiled sadly and threw himself on the bed too. "He's your brat, you tell me."

John sat up and sighed. "I wish I knew."

Mycroft hadn't moved beyond the doorway. He was staring at the floor, wishing he had some insight to offer the other two men. His brother had always been difficult, but this eluded even his understanding.

"Come here," Greg ordered, holding his hand out.

Mycroft felt extremely awkward as he crossed the room and dropped to his knees beside his Dom.

"No, up here, with us." Greg patted the bed between himself and John.

Mycroft bit his lip and looked at the younger Dom.

John nodded. "It's fine. Come on up."

As soon as the sub had settled between the two Doms, John rolled onto his side and rested his head on his shoulder.

"You look tired, mate," Greg pointed out.

"Hmm. My brat is good at that."

"Maybe you should sleep now. Sherlock isn't exactly going anywhere.

"I should keep an eye on him," the doctor protested.

"I'll do that," Greg promised. "I can see the laptop from here. I promise I won't let anything happen to him."

"Alright." John yawned, then closed his eyes.

"That didn't take long," Mycroft whispered when John was snoring softly.

Greg ran his hand through his pet's hair. "Nope."

"I don't think I'm going anywhere anytime soon, sir."

Greg laughed softly. "I think you're right, pet." He looked at the laptop only to see that Sherlock had managed to flip himself onto his back. "I don't know what we're going to do with that one."

"Let him flop around until he's too tired to move. Sir." Mycroft turned his head and kissed Greg on the cheek. "By then, you'll have thought of something."

Greg laughed. Then rolled over so he was laying across his boy.

"What do I do with you?" He asked.

"Anything you like," Mycroft said cheekily, "so long as you don't disturb John, sir."

"I think it's you who has to worry about not disturbing John."

Greg shimmied down his boy and took his cock in his mouth, sucking on it. He glanced up at his boy with a wicked look in his eyes, daring him to move or make a sound.

Mycroft bit his lip keeping quiet.

Greg began to nibble on the head of his cock until Mycroft couldn't help but buck into his Dom's waiting mouth.

The Superintendent slapped him lightly on the thigh at the little snuffling sound John made.

In response, Mycroft mouthed, "Sorry, sir."

"Hmm," Greg went back to nibbling away.

John jerked awake at the third time that Mycroft thrashed on the bed.

Mycroft covered his face with his hands. "Sorry, sirs."

As soon as it penetrated John's sleep muddled mind what had been going on, he had to stifle a laugh. "Carry on, Greg. Do you mind if I watch? It might be relaxing."

"Nooooooooo," Mycroft moaned.

That made John climb up the bed and sit on Mycroft's chest. He pulled his pants down and pressed his cock to Mycroft's mouth. "That should keep you quiet."

In consideration of John, Greg stopped his nibbling. He didn't want to be responsible for the other Dom getting bitten. Instead he switched to little teasing licks that wouldn't satisfy.

It wasn't long before Mycroft was growling with frustration.

Greg laughed evilly as he continued his little licks.

John didn't mind the growls, they felt remarkably good. "Whatever you're doing, Greg, keep it up. Your boy is doing the most delightful things to my cock."

The Superintendent pulled back and laughed. "Is that so?"

John groaned in response. "Oh yeah." He glanced briefly at the screen to check on Sherlock. The younger man had given up fighting now and instead chose to stare at the ceiling."

He’d give him a bit longer to stew in his own juices. If he didn't start up again, he might go see him in person until then...

Mycroft did something brilliant with his tongue and John had to work hard no to come then and there.

John didn't know how much longer he could hold out. He glanced at his boy on the screen and saw the naughty sod struggling again.

Something Mycroft did drew his attention away from the screen and he came in a sudden rush. He let his head fall back and he let out a long moan of satisfaction. When Mycroft pulled off of him, John looked back at the screen and the beginnings of afterglow fled. He rolled out of the way and let Greg and Mycroft carry on.

Greg glanced at the screen as well and straightened up.

"Sir!" Mycroft protested immediately.

"I wasn't going to let you come anyway, boy."

"Well-" Mycroft searched for a word that summed up how he felt. "Fuck."

Greg turned and slapped his boy on the thigh. "Watch it, boy!"

"But, sir-"

"Shut it. Get on the floor. On your knees."

Mycroft pushed himself off the bed and dropped to the floor, his hands went behind his head without being ordered.


	12. Back to Where We Were

"I can't believe Sherlock’s still going," Greg said with amazement. "I don't know what you're going to do with him, mate."

John shrugged. "If attention is what he wants…" He walked out of the bedroom and across the cottage to the wet playroom.

With a shrug of his own, Greg followed.

Mycroft hadn't been told to stay put, but he hadn't been told to follow either. In the absence of clear orders, he chose to follow his Dom in case Gregory needed anything from him. When Mycroft reached the playroom door, Greg glanced up.

"Stay," Greg ordered sharply, turning to help John who had begun to untie the detective.

Mycroft breathed a bit easier. He had known that following his Dom had been risky, but it looked like it was going to pay off. Watching the two Doms work, he was impressed with how they handled the still resisting Sherlock.

Once Sherlock was completely untied, John held him on his knees, his arm held behind his back.

Greg disappeared through a side door and reappeared with two spreader bars.

He fastened one between the sub's knees, then he moved around behind him. John had to move to the side to grant the other Dom access, but he didn't let up the pressure on Sherlock's arm. Greg moved fast and placed the second bar between the sub's ankles.

There was nothing Sherlock could do to struggle now, any movement would send him toppling sideways.

"Now what?" Mycroft found himself asking.

"Shut it, boy," Greg snapped. The truth was, he was at a loss what to do with the intractable man. "I don't know, John. What is next?"

John bent over and picked the struggling man up, throwing him over his shoulder. He took him out of the wet room and towards the room with the suspension set up.

Greg followed him, stopping only long enough to pet Mycroft on the hair and order him to follow. When they got to the other room, John had already started selecting the rope he was going to use. He bound Sherlock's arms behind his back, joining his wrists to the collar, then he attached the winch to his wrists and began to pull him up. It left Sherlock somewhat upright, but bent over with his legs uncomfortably spread.

Walking over to the table, John picked up a Wartenburgh pinwheel. He came back to his sub and tapped the prickly wheel against the tender flesh on the insides of his boy's thigh. "I'm going to run this over every sensitive spot you have until you can't take it anymore."

Sherlock glared at him. "Why?" he snarled.

"Because you need your attitude adjusting. Greg can you fetch the cage for that," he pointed at Sherlock's cock. "I'm going to tease you stupid with this and then lock it away, how does that sound?"

"How do you think it sounds?" Sherlock snarked.

With a smile, John ran the pinwheel over Sherlock's lips. His use of the device was expert. He used enough pressure to be arousing, but not enough to hurt. The sub's eye went wide in disbelief.

When Greg reappeared with the cock cage John crouched down and began running the pinwheel over his cock. Sherlock tried to fight it immediately, but given the way he was restrained he didn't get far. John ran it along his length several times, top, bottom and sides, then he ran it repeatedly over the head. Jaws clenched and muscles taught, Sherlock tried to ignore it, but his cock jumped at every touch of the pinwheel.

Mycroft, who had paused at the door once again, couldn't help but snigger.

"Shut it, you," the Superintendent ordered, "every piece of equipment here has a copy. The joys of money, eh Myc?"

"Sorry, sir," the government official said quickly. It wasn't that he would mind the pinwheel. It was the fact his Dom would surely tease him with it, then not let him come.

"Prove to me how sorry you are."

Mycroft frowned, straightening up slightly, his hands moving to behind his head. "How sir?"

Greg raised an eyebrow. "I think you should decide that."

Oh, his Dom was wicked. Mycroft looked around the room trying to deduce what would satisfy Gregory's demand. "I could suck you, sir?" he offered.

"I'm not hard." Greg folded his arms. "Try again."

"Sir, I don't-"

"Say you don't know and I'll cage your cock too."

"Would you like to tie me up sir?" Mycroft suggested, hoping that would satisfy his Dom. "You could tie me up and take me," he added hopefully.

"But you would enjoy that," Greg said as he walked towards him slowly.

"Sir, I-"

"I was hoping you were gonna tell me how you were going to prove to me you're sorry. But instead you want to get off?"

Mycroft hung his head. He should have done better and deduced what his Dom had wanted him to say.

Greg grasped his sub by the jaw and tilted his head up so he could look him in the eyes. "You're just as naughty as your brother in your own way."

Mycroft tried shaking his head with vigour, but Greg tightened his grip.

"You do not fight me, boy," the Superintendent growled.

Across the room Sherlock had begun an string of expletives. John shut him up by the simple expedient of sticking three fingers into his mouth. Unfortunately, the sub bit down on them in protest.

"Ow!" The doctor yelled out in surprise. "You little shit." Before the doctor could say anything else, Greg was beside him and pushing a ring gag into Sherlock's mouth.

"Thanks," John said as he examined his fingers. Sherlock hadn't broken the skin, but they hurt like hell.

Mycroft decided he'd better be on his best behaviour because things were starting to look bad fast. He had no idea what had put his brother in such a foul mood and in all honesty he didn't care. He just wished he wasn't because it put both the Doms in unforgiving moods. They had only been there one night. Surely Sherlock wasn't already bored. Then again, his brother did have an amazing capacity for boredom.

"Boy. Mycroft! Are you daydreaming?" Greg asked. "I told you to get over here."

Mycroft looked up at his Dom. "What?"

"Now!" The Superintendent ordered sharply.

Mycroft quickly scrambled across the room. Whilst trying to appear as though he was looking at Greg, Mycroft tried to get at look at John to see what he was doing. He appeared to be fucking Sherlock's mouth with a dildo.

The Superintendent stepped between Mycroft and the other couple. "I don't believe I told you to watch them."

"Sir-"

"No!" Greg barked, making John look over at him. "We started being tough on you, we come here and give you a break and this is how we are repaid."

Mycroft closed his eyes in realisation, that was what was wrong with his brother. He wanted it strict and rough again.

"I'm sorry, sir," Mycroft told his Dom. The truth was, he wasn't opposed to going back to strict and rough either. Not now that he'd thought about it. He grinned, looked Greg in the eyes and said, "Did we ask for a break, sir?"

"Break from what?"

"Permission to speak and not get punished, sir?"

Greg sighed then nodded once, even John stopped giving Sherlock's cock his attention to listen.

"With or without meaning to, things have gone back to the way they were sir. Sirs."

John placed his hand on Sherlock's head. "How do you mean?"

"When we got here, you both began going... soft I suppose is the best way to describe it, instead of being the stricter Doms we had agreed you'd be."

Greg sighed. "Well, bollocks."

For his part, John looked his boy deep in the eyes. "Is that what's got you so wound up?"

Sherlock glared at him and the was answer enough.

The doctor reached down and grabbed Sherlock's over sensitive cock, squeezing the head. "I asked you a question, boy!"

Sherlock flinched, then nodded.

John rolled his eyes. "And you couldn't have just told me, like a grown up. You had to act out like a brat. Fine. I'll punish you like the brat you are."

Sherlock shook his head this time, but John wasn't paying attention anymore. He began wheeling the pin wheel back over Sherlock's cock.

The detective squeezed his eyes shut and tried to wriggle away from the pinwheel. John just grabbed one of the ropes and held him in place whilst he worked.

Greg reached out and grabbed his own sub by the hair, dragging him into the room. "Pick something," Greg ordered.

"Sir?"

"Pick something for me to use on you."

This time, Mycroft didn't hesitate. "The riding crop, sir. As many strokes as you think I deserve."

Greg laughed. "Alright, but I won't go easy on you just because you asked for it. I'm going to make it hurt."

"Yes, sir."

Greg laughed. "Get on the bench, boy."

"But, sir-"

"Now!"

Mycroft scrambled across the room, ignoring the shallow whimpering coming from Sherlock. He threw himself over the bench and waited to see what would happen next.

Greg walked over and ran the crop along his boy's spine. "I'm not going to tie you up. I expect you to stay right where you are without moving. Do not disappoint me."

"Yes, sir," Mycroft whispered in response. He wasn't sure how long it would be before he at least tried to get away from the no doubt heavy strikes.

The first blow came quick and hard across the widest part of his arse. Mycroft managed not to move, but only just. He didn't manage to keep back his yelp of surprise.

"Did I say you could make a noise?" Greg asked, gripping Mycroft's hair in his fist and pulling his head back.

"No, sir," he croaked out.

The Superintendent kept his grip on Mycroft's hair as he continued to crop him. He brought the crop down time and again. The muscles in his sub's back were taught like a bow. When Greg's arm began to hurt he pulled Mycroft from the bench and dropped him to his knees facing his brother.

The government official didn't know about his brother, but his arse and thighs could certainly attest to his Dom's efforts. He stared ahead unseeing, paying attention to the heady sensation of the stinging, burning pain.

"Well it didn't take long for mine to find subspace," Greg said with a laugh.


	13. No Hiding

John glanced over and saw the government official's face. "If only this one was that easy."

"He wants it rough. You can't get much rougher than what he got this morning." Greg's face lit up. "You could always use a cane on him."

John frowned. "I don't like caning him."

Greg sighed. "Stuff him full with something then," he said with a laugh.

"I'll plug him up with ginger," John decided. "Would you go get me a large piece?" he asked the Superintendent. "I don't want to take my eyes off of him, not even for a moment." Sherlock's glare increased thrice fold and it made the doctor laugh. "You are being a very very naughty bratty sub." He couldn't help it, the Dom leant forward and placed a kiss on Sherlock's forehead. The detective tried to jerk away, but John wouldn't let him. He growled through the gag and John laughed once again. "Mycroft, come here," John pointed at his feet.

Cautiously the government official crawled over and knelt before the younger Dom.

"Suck," John ordered pointing at Sherlock's over-sensitive cock.

Mycroft looked at the cock in front of him for a moment before wrapping his lips around it. He bobbed his head, sucking, not paying attention to the sounds coming from his brother's mouth.

"Be quite boy, or I'll stick something hard down there," John warned.

Sherlock's eyes widened and he tried to thrash, then groaned as his arms were pulled slightly further up his back.

Greg came in carrying the largest thumb of ginger that they had. It had been freshly peeled and shaped.

Sherlock didn't like the look of it one bit. He began thrashing and whimpering his protests. Mycroft grazed his teeth along his brother's cock and he stilled instantly.

"Thank you, Mycroft," John said, having noticed the government official's little trick. He held out his hand for the ginger. "And thank you, Greg. You want things tough, you little brat, then you can get things tough." He began easing the ginger into his hole without fingering him first.

When Sherlock tried to shift away from the intrusion, Mycroft simply rested his teeth against his cock. The older Holmes didn't even have to apply pressure to make his point. Sherlock quit moving immediately. Mycroft just knelt there with his teeth resting around the head of Sherlock's cock, it prevented any further fighting on his brother's part.

The ginger didn't feel like much at first, but soon enough, it started heating up and burning. It took everything Sherlock had in him not to shift his hips, but Mycroft's teeth were a very good incentive not to.

Mycroft watched carefully. Every time Sherlock shifted he closed his mouth slightly, making his teeth graze along his brother's cock with more pressure.

John wrapped his arms around his boy and started teasing his nipples. He pulled on then, twisted and pinched them hard until Sherlock started making little whimpering sounds. "Aw, boy, do they hurt?" He pinched them harder. Just as Sherlock tried to move again, Mycroft bit down. "Mycroft is becoming… independent again," John laughed.

"No, sir, I'm not!" He said, pulling off Sherlock's cock.

Greg stepped forward and grabbed his boy by his thinning hair, pulling his head back. "Are you ready to switch? Is that what this is about?"

"No, sir," Mycroft answered instantly. "I'm sorry, sir."

Greg laughed, secretly loving how Mycroft wanted to stay submissive. "Sorry, are you?"

"Yes, sir. Honestly."

"Prove it. Go kneel in the corner. I need to decide what to do to you next." As Mycroft crawled away, Greg gave Sherlock's erect cock a slap, then walked over to the table of toys. The Superintendent snatched up a pair of hand cuffs from the table and then an adjustable spreader bar, that had cuffs already attached.

Mycroft wasn't surprised to be handcuffed, but the spreader bar came as a mild surprise.

"Okay, pet, you can come out of the corner now," Greg said with humour in his voice.

"Ha, ha," Mycroft mocked, he winced as his hair was grabbed and tugged again.

"What was that, boy?"

"Nothing, sir," he ground out quickly.

Greg let go, then stepped back, waiting.

Mycroft let out a huff, then started edging backwards an inch at a time. It seemed to take him forever to get out of the corner.

"Now turn around and face me," the Superintendent ordered.

Mycroft rolled his eyes, then started the arduous process of turning around.

Greg folded his arms. "Now turn back around and get back in the corner."

From across the room, Sherlock looked up and watched with a smirk.

"But, sir!"

"Do it!" Greg barked.

Mycroft shot him a glare, but started the odious task of turning back around. He was stopped, however, when his Dom grasped him by the chin. Mycroft flinched back at the look on Greg's face. "Sir-"

"Shut it, boy. John could you fetch him a a gag, please, mate?"

"Sure."

"But, sir-"

"Enough! Stop the arguing."

Mycroft clamped his mouth shut and dropped his eyes to the floor. He'd had his chance. He could have switched places with Greg if he'd just said yes. Even as the gag was shoved into his mouth and buckled in place, he wondered why he liked it so much.

The Superintendent saw the smirk on his boy's face around the gag and he gripped his hair tighter than before. "Get back in the corner," Greg repeated, releasing him once again.

Knowing he was skirting too close to danger, Mycroft turned as fast as he could, then, once facing the corner, inched forward so that he was where he had been placed originally.

Greg smiled, but of course the government official couldn't see that. He turned on his heel and glanced at Sherlock. "You do realise your boy is watching mine, right?"

"Oi!" John smacked Sherlock on the arse. "None of that." He didn't trust his boy at all, so he fetched a padded blindfold and fitted it in place over his pet's eyes.

Sherlock tried ducking out of it and John clocked him up the side of his head. "Behave, boy, or we can go back to enema time." That actually did the trick, much to John's surprise. Sherlock went still and let him secure the blindfold. "Wise choice, pet," the doctor said, patting Sherlock's cheek.

For some reason, the detective hated that. It felt so… demeaning. He was sure if it was anyone except the current people in the room, he would never allow it.

John must have seen something of that on his expression. He stepped in close and kissed Sherlock's temple. "I can't believe I get to play with you like this." He tipped his boy's head back and kissed the corner of his mouth even as his other hand sought out his nipple and pinched it hard. A huff came out through the gag and John smiled. "Good boy." He stepped back and turned to look at Greg, he was nudging Mycroft's cock from between his legs.

The government official let his head fall forward and hit the corner with a thud. He felt like his cock might explode just from being teased.

"I know what you are thinking, boy. But don't. If you do I will lock it up in a cage and give the key to your PA."

Mycroft groaned around his gag, making his Dom laugh.

"And then, I'll make you ask her politely for it in a few weeks." The Dom laughed. "I actually might do it anyway."

Mycroft began shaking his head enthusiastically, making the Superintendent want to laugh even more.

"Tut tut, boy. I might let you beg me not to in a while."

At that, Mycroft nodded and made a grateful sound.

Greg chuckled and knelt down behind his sub. He leant forward and bit his boy's shoulder, stopping just short of breaking skin.

Sherlock rested his head against his arm and hid in his Mind Palace. He could ignore the feeling of humiliation in his cock, even as John began nudging it with a riding crop.

John gave the detective's cock a sharp smack with the crop. "Get out of your Mind Palace right now! I want you to experience everything I do to you."

At that, Sherlock protested quite vocally. If he wanted to go to his Mind Palace, he bloody well would. It wasn't like he could see anything else to entertain himself with.

His stubborness didn't go unnoticed. John went to the table and picked up a number of pegs. He came back and crouched down in front of his boy. One by one, he started attaching the pegs to his cock, running them in a line from root to tip.

It didn't take long for the consulting detective to realise why this was happening. He would have clamped his mouth shut if he could have done.

John let the pegs stay in place for a bit then he took one off and moved it to a different location on Sherlock's cock. He felt himself getting hard from the change in his boy's breathing.

Across the room, Greg had dragged his sub from the corner and deposited him in the middle of the room.

The government official struggled to stay upright as he was practically dropped.

The superintendent grabbed the tiger balm off the table and placed a generous amount on his hand, then he settled himself so he could comfortably wrap his fingers around Mycroft's cock.

John walked up beside him and held out the cock cage he had gathered up on his way over.

Mycroft glared up at the pair of them.

"Ta, John." Greg took the cage in his free hand and kept stroking Mycroft's cock. "But I think I'm going to need to use ice to get matters under control if I'm going to get this on him."

"Ok." John shrugged and left the room, heading to the kitchen.

Mycroft groaned when the doctor returned with a tub of ice cubes.

The doctor set it down by Greg and grabbed out a couple of ice cubes for himself. He went over and ran them over Sherlock's nipples, enojoying the jolt of surprise and watching him squirm as he tried to get away from them.

"You aren't going anywhere, boy, quit struggling."

Sherlock moaned, but fell still, hating the feeling even more when he couldn't jump away from it.

For his part, Mycroft whimpered at his burrning, stinging cock and deflated. The Superintendent quickly gathered his boy's bollocks and cock and soon had the cock cage locked in place.

Mycroft glanced down at it and whimpered. He eyed the Superintendent carefully as he threw the key up in the air numerous times.

"John, catch. Would you hide that? If my boy earns the chance, I'll let him deduce where you hid it."

"Sure thing." The doctor kissed the corner of Sherlock's mouth.


End file.
